Recruitment
by anonymously-famous1
Summary: This follows the recruitment efforts done by Renita Shepard on the SSV Normandy SR-2. I hope you like it. May be connected with other future fics. CAUTION: Spoilers for ME2.
1. Archangels and Gunsmoke

**A/N: Hey, so here is a bit o' fanfiction. I know this isn't entirely accurate; the Widow should NOT be the gun she has, the series of events, and some of the dialogue isn't accurate. I'm really REALLY sorry.. I hope you like it anyway. This might turn into a little series, but probably would not be updated daily if it was. But anyway, enjoy, and thanks. Mass Effect plot, characters, quotes, ect. belong to the wonderful BioWare and EA publishers.**

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The area carried the scent of gun smoke, copper, and dust. It was spread out, with boxes moved around the room haphazardly for makeshift cover. The entrance was under a balcony, but even from here, Ren Shepard could see the pipes and metal support bars holding the vast ceiling up. Above her, the sound of a sniper picking off the last of the mercenaries it could see. In front of her, new mercenaries readied their guns. A younger man, about twenty two, was setting up explosives. They were going to blow the floor apart, and rip the target from their perch.

_Archangel._

The thought of this recruiting this stranger brought a strong surge of emotions that she couldn't quite keep hold of.

Caution, which she had already been feeling toward her new "teammates" at Cerberus, Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor, doubled. Cerberus had, in the way the Illusive Man had meant, given her these companions to help her on her mission. But "assigned" was a more appropriate term. She trusted neither of them, and she knew neither of them trusted her. Miranda's eyes watched her always, like she was still an experiment. Still on the slab labeled "Project Lazarus". Still being brought back from the dead. She could practically hear Miranda's instinct to shoot her in the back. And Jacob, acting as if Miranda's word was gospel. No matter what Shepard would say, she could see it in his eyes that he believed in Cerberus, the Illusive Man, and Miranda. A woman from the Alliance Navy whose mistrust of Cerberus was practically palpable had no place near him.

This wasn't a team. This was an uncomfortable and unfortunate arrangement of soldiers fighting for the human race. It wasn't like the old days; the days with Ash and Kaidan.

And now she would have to trust an assassin.

And with that came frustration. Cerberus brought her back from the dead. Though she wanted to, she couldn't walk away. They gave her life so she could fight whatever she was supposed to fight. The only thing was, she was under the thumb of the Illusive Man. He had control of her, he had her do his bidding, he had contacts on her crew, and he could not be trusted. Though his cause had seemed noble as he spoke to her, Shepard heard something in his voice. Saw something dark behind his glowing eyes. She owed this organization her life; but she was stuck now. Stuck until Cerberus had no more use for her. She saw no way out; if the files-_her _files-were correct, she had been pronounced dead two years ago. Her crew had long since vanished, with the exception of Doctor Chakwas and Joker. The SSV Normandy SR-1 was crashed on some desolate planet, and the SR-2 was property of Cerberus. Until she left Cerberus-and she would leave, dammit. She would leave if she had to-she would have nowhere to go. Even when it was over, she still wasn't sure what there was to go back to.

So, she was stuck. Which then filled her with longing and loneliness. She yearned for her old crew. For the old walls of the Normandy, and the laughter of the crew. For her evenings playing strip poker with Kaidan. For the fire fights and adrenalin rush she'd felt when she and Liara worked to cover Tali. She missed the nights when she and Garrus Vakarian would talk through the night in the mess hall, exchanging stories and laughs. She even missed the nights she would lie awake in her cabin with regret and remorse twisting her stomach as she thought of Ashely, Wrex, and Virmire.

"You ready, Shepard?" Jacob asked, shaking her back to the present.

She nodded. "Find a spot, take cover, and take out as many mercs as you can." She paused as a thought suddenly occurred. "Don't shoot Archangel, if you can help it. They might nick you a few times, but-"

"We need them," Miranda finished. "So please, Jacob, if he does 'nick you', watch your temper."

Shepard nodded once, doing her best to ignore the interruption. The mercenaries where already heading out, and the sound of gunfire filled the air. "Watch yourselves!" Shepard yelled over the noise.

She barreled into the fight, her first shot hitting a Blood Pack merc on her left, and then turning to shoot the boy setting up the explosives.

She had just taken out a Blue Suns member with two shots when she first felt her shields fluctuate. She slid into cover between two boxes just as Archangel took another shot at her. She glared up at the balcony where she caught a glimpse of them. From what she could make out, the shooter was turian, male, and, as she ducked again, either too proud to accept the help or just too stupid as to not realize thats what they were sent to do. She popped out of cover, shot the wall twice by his head and showed him and obscene digit, a human sign that she hoped he'd understand.

Shepard rolled out of cover and took down two more Blue Suns mercs before the reached the steps. She was vulnerable now and the stragglers left behind her were working hard to take down her shields. It was only when a bullet whizzed by her ear did she realize they had succeeded. She starred at the bullet hole behind her, and back in the direction it came from. Archangel had their gun aimed in her direction. She quickly took the steps two at a time, moving out of the snipers way, keeping her head low.

He was probably stupid, she decided.

A Blue Suns merc, batarian by the look of them, charged Shepard as soon as she reach the top step. She shot passed his shields and took him down before he could touch her, and took a breath of relief, thankful she had not first fallen down the steps.

The next two mercs were easy take downs. She didn't waste her bullets; charging the first one, she socked the human male with enough force to send him reeling back before she hit the top of his head with her gun hard enough to dent the helmet he wore. She second merc was busy trying to bypass the door to Archangel's balcony. She took hold of the turnian's head and snapped his neck.

She turned to look at the sniper. From what she could see, his shooting was getting a bit more random. Like he stopped caring. The shots were lacking passion. All this action, protecting himself, the shots he must have taken, would have worn any species down. He was getting tired, and Shepard knew she needed to get in there quickly.

"Shepard!" Miranda called from below. Well, maybe not a quick as she would have hoped.

Miranda was stuck in cover, covering both her flanks. Behind her, Jacob was trying to cover himself in a very similar way. But both were outnumbered in every direction. When they stopped covering one side long enough to protect the other, they came under heavy fire all over again.

Shepard didn't hesitate. The door bypass would have to wait. Archangel held his own this long; he could hold out a bit longer.

She ran to the balcony overlooking the staircase, and set up her M-98 Widow. She looked through her scope only to see a salarian whose gun was a little too close to the brunette's head. No matter how much she would have liked to she how that scenario played out, she couldn't afford to lose a team member now. She shot the alien in the back the the head. She flipped her dark hair out of her eyes as she reloaded and shot a Blood Pack member nearest to Jacob. It went on like that for sometime. Moving hair out of her eyes, reloading, shooting, repeat.

When she began to see the mercs fall thanks to a bullets from her companions, she stood up, finished with the provided cover. The place was nearly rid of the mercs. She was just putting away her sniper when she caught Jacob suddenly turning toward her and pointing his gun.

"Shepard!" he screamed.

She spun around quick enough to catch the arm of a Blood Pack member. Her back hit the metal hard enough to make her eyes shut in agony, but by the sound of it's hissed curses, it was a vorcha, nasty creatures whose bite was defiantly worse than their bark. And, apparently, strong too. Shepard practically shook with the effort of keeping the alien's gun and claws away from her. She tried kicking its legs out from under it, but the merc had its leg situated in such a way that she couldn't quite reach them. The vorcha had her pinned to the balcony anyway; if she made any real effort to kick it away, she'd fall backward over the rail. In retrospect, it may have been a better plan to just duck and move away from the assailant, but adrenalin does little to help with rational decisions. Shepard could feel her back pressing hard against the railing as the alien wrestled to reach her neck or shoot her at the right angle.

She was going to fall. If she couldn't get the vorcha off of her, she was going to falter in her grip, and fall. That is, if the creature didn't slit her throat or put a bullet in her brain first.

Though the gunfire around them was loud, a deafening bang followed by a sick _thunk _noise suddenly rang in Shepard's ears. The shot was close range. The vorcha fell limp agains her.

She shimmied out from under its weight and flipped it over the railing, breathing hard. Jacob stood a few feet away. Miranda was behind him, her filled with dry amusement at Jacobs actions.

"Thanks," Shepard managed with a tired, lopsided half smile.

"Don't mention it," Jacob said tightly. He inclined his head to the door. "Ready?"

Shepard nodded. The bypass took less than a minute, and the door successfully slid open with a hiss. They stepped in slowly, the door shutting with another hiss and a beep behind them.

The sniper sat perched and watching though his scope. His body was coiled like a snake ready to strike. He knelt of the ground, as if still in the firefight, but Shepard couldn't see any body else below them. The room was empty except for the occasional plant box, a few couches, storage crates, and scattered amo. They were completely alone.

"Archangel?" she said. The name sounded like a command coming out of her mouth, but she somehow knew he could detect the caution she had tried not to let slip.

In response, the figure held up a finger.

_Wait._

Just as she was about to speak, she saw a human male stick his head out from the pillar he was behind. Archangel relentlessly pulled the trigger. The man was gone in a flash, and the air quieted once more.

Archangel then stood up, his movements a bit stiff. His body seemed a bit wilted, but then again, he was tired. Still, in those movements, Shepard could swear she could see something oddly familiar. She had seen turinas before this, so maybe it was just memory. But as he put his gun away and began to remove his helmet, she knew she knew that body language. The proud walk of a turian, mixed with the stiffness that C-Sec officers just couldn't hide, former or other wise.

He plopped down on to the crates near the opening he was shooting from, one leg propped up and the other on the ground, sniper leaning against his knee. His face was worn, his eyes seemed distant from what she could tell from behind the visor, and his armored shoulders were heavy with emotion. She understood completely.

"Shepard," Garrus Vakarian said softly. "I thought you were dead."

Many emotions must have played across her face at once. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't hide them from Garrus. He read her like a damn book whenever they spoke. Shock, elation, nostalgia, and fear bubbled up inside her. She hated knowing her friends thought her dead, but she wasn't sure if she was supposed to tell them if she was alive. Should she have tried to contact Garrus? Liara? Should she have told Kaidan?

But at this moment, staring at her friend, she really didn't care.

"Garrus!" she said, spreading her arms wide and her smile even wider. "What are you doing here?"

He gave her a familiar smirk, but the expression seemed different. A deep undertone of sadness and hurt lay there. "Just keeping my skills sharp," he said with a shrug. "A little target practice."

She couldn't help but notice that the C-Sec officer in him had all but gone. Two years later, and something had changed. But he was still Garrus, and right now, it was just nice to see someone from her past alive and well. "You okay?"

"Been better," he stated, "but it sure is nice to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

At that, her smile hardened a bit. "You know you shot at me," she said, miffed.

Garrus gave her a droll stare, something she thought all turians mastered. He looked as if he wanted to laugh. "Did I?"

"Yeah. Nailed me pretty good, by the way."

He rolled his eyes, and she noticed a spark in them again. "Concussive rounds only," he drawled. "No harm done. Didn't want the mercs getting suspicious."

"Uh-huh," she goaded with a roll of her own eyes.

He snorted. "Please. If I wanted to do more than take your shields down, I'd have done it."

"Sure, sure," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And the shot that nearly took my ear off was what? An accident?"

"You shot two very _real _shotgun rounds at my head and purposly missed me. _I _was just returning the favor."

She crossed her arms and raised and eyebrow.

"Besides," he said with a shrug, "you were taking your sweet time. I needed to get you moving."

At that, she laughed. It was the first real laugh since she had died two years ago. She shook her head and moved a step closer to lean against the wall.

"How the hell did you manage to piss off every major merc organization in the Terminus Systems anyway, Garrus?" she asked.

"It wasn't easy," he said, sarcasm coating his every word. "I _really_ had to work at it." He chuckled. "I'm amazed they teamed up to fight me. They must really hate me."

"I'll say," Shepard huffed. "You've always been such a pain in the ass, I'm surprised there aren't more mercs out for your head."

He rolled his eyes. If he was a bit less mature, she could see him sticking him tongue out at her.

She heard more voices below them. The leftover mercs, most likely. And now that their cover was blown, getting out alive was proving to be a tough option. She peaked out from the wall she was leaning on, and heard them speaking to the next wave of mercs. She cursed.

"What?" Garrus asked, suddenly concerned.

"Well, we got here," she said looking to Garrus, "but judging but the amount of mercs down there, I don't think getting out is going to be an easy task." She chewed her lip.

"It won't be," Garrus said grimly. "That bridge has saved my life...funneling all those witless idiots into scope.." He got up and turned to look behind them. He was silent for a moment.

"What?"

"It works both ways," he said, frustrated. "They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

Shepard nodded, her frown deepening.

Miranda spoke then, her voice speaking in unfiltered frustration and anger. "So we just sit here and wait for them to take us out?"

Shepard turned to glare at her, but she had a point. They couldn't just sit there, especially now.

"It's not all that bad," Garrus said, "This place has held them off so far. And with the three of you..."

Shepard shook her head. "You aren't suggesting we sit here and play the waiting game."

"I'm suggesting," Garrus snapped, "we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances."

Shepard shook her head, and readied her gun.

"It's not a perfect plan," Garrus said to Shepard, "but it's a plan."

Shepard growled and glared at her friend. Soldier or not, tight situations like this were her least favorite to be in. Hell, she'd hate to meet anyone who liked them.

"How'd you let yourself get into this position?" she asked, only half joking. "If I end up saving your ass, I have a right to know."

He shrugged and looked away. His posture had went ridgid. "I let my feelings get in the way of my better judgement."

Shepard stared at him. Garrus had never been known to let his feelings get in the way of what had to be done. Not that he was cold-hearted, or emotionless; he was neither. She had just never known Garrus to be anything but level-headed when it came to his work. Whatever it was he did for a living now.

Something in her expression must have embarrassed him because he looked down. "It's a long story."

"Considering we may be up here awhile, I think I have some time to kill."

Garrus considered that, eyeing Miranda and Jacob carefully. His blue eyes were filled with mistrust, though none of it was directed toward her, thank God. Finally he looked down toward Shepard.

"I'll make you a deal," he said softly. "You get me out of here alive, and I'll tell you the whole damn thing."

Shepard nodded. "Then lets kick ass. I'm ready to spill a little more merc blood."

Garrus laughed. "Glad to see you haven't changed."

She half-smiled and raised her middle digit. She knew now that he'd take it as a show a friendship rather than the harsh insult it was meant to be earlier.

Garrus nodded his head toward the opposite part of the balcony over looking the bridge. "Let see what their up to."

Shepard watched as Garrus pulled his sniper up to his eyes, and used it as a telescope. "Well," he said, his tone bored, "it looks like they know their infiltration team failed."

"Here, take a look." He handed the gun to Shepard. "Scouts. Eclipse, I think."

Shepard glanced through the scope. Lined up across the bridge were LOKI mechs as well as Eclipse mercs. Both looked ready for blood. "Those look like a lot more than Scouts," she growled, handing the sniper back to Garrus.

"Indeed," he said in disgust. He kept his eyes on the figures across the bridge. "I'll stay up here. I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point."

He gave a slide ways glance to Shepard, who gave him a dark smile in return. "You," he said slowly, "you can do what you do best."

Shepard holstered her shotgun, cracked her knuckles, and rolled her shoulders a bit. "I thought you'd never ask." She brought out her Widow and set up near the next window.

"Just like old times, Shepard," Garrus murmured. The gunshots echoed in her ears as the fight began again.

Her smile grew as she let loose the next shot. "Is it?" she whipped her hair out of her eyes and readied another shot. "You and I seem to remember our adventures quite differently."

He rolled his eyes and took out two Eclipse mercs; though he seemed annoyed, she could see the ghost of a smile on his face.

She turned her attention to the fight. The Eclipse scouts and mechs seemed to go down easy, but she suspected they were holding something back. Her knowledge on the mercenary group was limited, but she had heard somewhere that this group had YMIR mechs to spare. They'd have to bring them out eventually.

She watched as Miranda took out the last standing member on the bridge and gave her a lopsided smile. She returned it with an over-confidant smirk.

Shepard fought the urge to roll her eyes and replaced her Widow with her shotgun. She knew the base wouldn't be empty for long, and they were going to need some to cover the door. She stood up and headed toward the door.

She heard Garrus murmur something about snipers being deployed, and quickly ducked out of the room. She could see the entrance from her angle, and she new most of her shots would be clear ones. She didn't have to wait long; Garrus called a warning to her that the mercs were in. She could felt Jacob's presence moving behind her.

"You cover the left side of the stairs, I get the right?" he asked.

She nodded. "Good idea. Stay in cover though. Bastards seem to have some pretty decent shields up."

They moved to cover the stairway. As soon as she had her back to the metal beam, Jacob started firing. The first few shots bounces harmlessly off a salarian merc, and Jacob had to take cover when he let loose his bullets. And asari came up behind the salarian, and shot at Shepard. The plinking sound of bullets hitting the area beside her head had her heart pounding. She spun out of cover and loosed five shots into her before the other fell.

The two barely broke a sweat bringing down the small amount of mercs sent to dispatch them. Jacob lead the way back to where Miranda and Garrus were still clearing the bridge.

In the distance, Shepard could see a salarian watching them just out of shotgun range. Jaroth was the leader of the Eclipse mercs on Omega. His remarks to her were limited, so she didn't know too much else about him other than he held a strong dislike for her kind. But if his body language was anything to go by, Jaroth was _pissed._

"Alright, lets see how you handle this, Archangel," he said loud enough for her team and Garrus to hear.

Garrus reloaded his sniper stood. Shepard was right behind him. A hatch behind Jaroth opened with mechanical slowness, and, sure enough, a YMIR mech was dropped, and slowly unfolded in front of them. Garrus cursed as the creature took a few slow steps forward, it's weapons still waiting to turn on. Scouts rushed passed it, eager to reach the base.

"So they were hiding mechs," she heard Miranda muse.

"Figures. How hard can you hit it with biotics?" Shepard asked.

"Miranda shook her head. "Not as hard as I would like to. The most I can do without giving myself a nosebleed right now is disable its shields, and even then, it won't do much against it."

"Worth a shot," Jacob said with a shrug.

The machine in front of them came on line. Garrus pulled the trigger and let loose the first shot. In response, the machine raised its left arm. It wasn't moving forward anymore, and Shepard only saw what was happening after the missile was released.

"Get down!" she shouted. The missile hit the side of the balcony with enough force to rattle Shepard's teeth. Any spare ammo laying around clattered to the floor. The metal ceiling groaned, protesting the rough movement.

Shepard and Garrus exchanged shocked looks. It was one thing to hear about YMIR's; it was another thing to fight them. Not that she hadn't fought mechs before. Side by side, she remember times when she, Garrus, and Kaidan took on geth that were just as large if not larger than this mech. The only difference here was she had grenades or had been driving the MAKO. She didn't have any kind of explosive to her name now.

"Any ideas?" she asked Garrus. Behind him, Miranda had hurled the shield weakening biotics at the machine.

Garrus turned to shoot the machine twice before responding. "Explosives?" he said, but his voice was void of any kind of hope.

Shepard unloaded a clip into the machine, frustrated. It's shields had gone down as promised, but the mech marched slowly forward, unaffected. She reloaded and chose instead to hit a heavily armed merc who had just left cover. As he went down, she saw a rather large gun leave his clutches. But from here, she couldn't make it out. It looked like a...

"Jacob, cover me!" Shepard suddenly shouted. She ran for the steps, hearing Jacob shout something after her. She readied her gun and slid behind a crate just as three mercenaries sprinted into view. Jacob was shouting something to Garrus over his own gunfire. She waited until the mercenaries were charging up the stairs before she sprinted for the exit.

Shepard waited in cover, watching mercs fall at the hand of Garrus' bullets, or helplessly floating at the mercy of Miranda's biotics.

The YMIR was taking it's time moving forward. The gunshots weren't enough to damage it, no matter how well placed they may have been. If they wanted the mech down before it reached the base, she had to get to that gun. It was big enough to be a grenade launcher, but even now from a different angle, she could not be sure.

"Shepard!"

She growled at the voice in her com. "Jacob, not now."

"You ran out of there like a bat out of hell."

"Jacob, please," she said, shooting a merc who got too close. "I need to concentrate on finding an opening."

For a moment, he was silent. And then, "Why?" He sounded taken aback.

"I _think,_" Shepard said, glancing out of her cover, "one of the mercs dropped a grenade launcher. We're going to need that, don't you think?"

A new voice came onto the frequency, and it sounded furious. "A hunch? You are going to risk a YMIR mech-which, may I remind you, has a rocket launcher in its left arm-, Eclipse mercs, LOKI mechs, and _Jaroth_," he spit the name out, "on a _hunch_?"

"Ga-Archangel, get off this frequency. Focus on the mech." Of course he would butt in; he always tried to intervene when the situation called for drastic measures. Garrus always saw the glass half-empty. If there was a way to die in any situation she got herself into-and there were always plenty-Garrus found it. Granted, it was easier to find in situations like this, especially when the risk of being blown up was on the table. Still: she had to try.

"Shepard, come on," the voice didn't sound like it was pleading. If anything, the way Garrus spoke was as if her death would inconvenience him.

She shot two more mercs before responding. "It's not a hunch." A lie, and they both knew it.

"Don't be stupid," was his immediate response.

"Get off the frequency and do your damned job, Archangel," she snarled. It wasn't clear to her why she chose to use his code name. Perhaps it was because the coms could have been hacked at any moment, or maybe she liked that the name seemed to rub Garrus the wrong way.

Whatever the reason, she didn't have time to think about it. The YMIR was close now. But it was turned toward the balcony. Easy to slip by. The rest of the Eclipse team would see her, but that's what Garrus was for.

"Job?" Garrus inquired.

"Cover me!" was all she said before she hopped over her cover and sprinted forward, gun in hand.

Shepard couldn't remember the last time an adrenaline rush felt so great. Here she was, sprinting passed the heavily armored leg of a machine, into the opposing side's cover like it was a walk in the park. The gun fire around her, the mercs that littered the floor of the bridge meant nothing to her right now. Garrus' sniper took out any oncoming threat that spirited toward her. She could hear bullets hitting the machine behind her.

The gun was only a few feet away now.

She felt a sudden stinging sensation course through her arm, and looked to her left. Jaroth stood with his gun poised and ready to take her down. He looked like vengeance. Ugly, angry, sweaty, salarian vengence. She aimed her gun and shot, only realizing she had done this after it happened. The shot hit him between the eyes, and she counted her lucky stars his shields weren't up. The Eclipse leader flopped unceremoniously onto the ground and didn't stir. Blood had started to pool around him when Shepard looked away.

She glanced briefly at her arm. It was bleeding, but the bullet had just grazed her. It would hurt like hell in a little bit, but at the moment it was only a slight annoyance. She didn't have time for it right now.

She ran the rest of the way to the gun. She had been right; the man had indeed been carrying a grenade launcher. She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

She launched the first grenade at the mech, watching as it staggered forward. One more, then, she decided. The YMIR was almost inside the base; walking toward it, she launched second grenade before it could lift it's foot.

It worked wonderfully; the machine hunched over as if in pain. It's arms spasmed and it's body shook once violently. Shepard quickly hit the ground and covered her head with one arm. The explosion didn't shake the ground like she thought it would, but pieces of the YMIR flew every which way.

When she was sure it was safe, she sprinted back into the base. Jacob had done a good job of covering the door; bodies of salarians, asari, and human merc alike were scattered behind cover or near the stairs. Shepard was both horrified and proud of the carnage she had seen; her team had done beautifully, even when she pulled the stunt that she did.

Shepard sauntered in and greeted her comrades with a triumphant smile, setting the launcher on a nearby box. Jacob smiled brightly at her, and Miranda nodded in approval.

Shepard stole a look at Garrus, who stared at the gun, then at her, and then back at the gun. If he had been surprised she'd been right, he's lost all traces of it on his face. There was only genuine pride and excitement in his eyes. She walked to her friend as the others reloaded and readied themselves for another battle.

"You're kicking ass, Shepard," Garrus said approvingly. "They barely touched me." He looked down to reload his gun.

"And we got Jaroth in the process," Shepard said, matter-of-factly.

Garrus nodded to the gash on her arm. "I see he got you too."

She shrugged. "Worry about it later. I just got lucky; at that distance and to shoot me where he did, he must have been a terrible shot."

Garrus chuckled. "I noticed that." He turned to look out the window, where the salarian's body still lay. "Too bad you got to him first. I've been hunting that little bastard for months."

"Sorry," she smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The next mercenary leader with a gun pointed at my face is your's, okay?"

Garrus rolled his eyes at her playful tone, but his voice took on a rather protective edge. "It would be my pleasure."

If Garrus could take the pole out of his ass and learn not to take all the weird near-deaths they'd seen and been through to heart, he'd be almost normal. He'd always been protective, ever since they took the fight to Saren and Sovereign; but there was something shaper in his tone that told her he was more serious than he let on.

She glanced out the window and across the bridge. "We've still got Blood Pack and Blue Suns left," she said softly. "Think we can make a break for it?"

The turian shrugged. "Maybe. Let's see what they're up to."

He watched the bridge carefully, but even with her human eyes, she could tell they'd already regrouped.

"They've reenforced the other side...heavily. But..." Garrus trailed off, thinking to himself no doubt.

"What's wrong?" Shepard asked. Garrus seemed nervous, and that set her on edge. She was sure he'd been scared piss-less before, and she'd seen him in situations worse than this. What could be worse than the YMIR mech?

"They aren't coming over the bridge," Garrus mused. "What are they waiting for?"

A low but firm boom answered him. The ground quaked a bit, but didn't do much else. It had sounded and felt like explosives. Shepard paled a bit, exchanging glances with Miranda and Jacob.

Miranda, who was usually all confidence, spoke with a surprising amount of nerves in her voice. "That sounded bad."

Garrus had already set to work on his omni-tool. His eyebrows drew together, eyes glowing with hate. "Dammit," he hissed. "They've breached the lower level."

"Fantastic," Shepard mumbled. "What now?"

Garrus gave her an incredulous stare. "You're up, Shepard. You better get down there."

She was already shaking her head. "No way."

"I can keep the bridge clear."

"I'm not leaving you alone," she stated firmly.

"I don't think we have time to debate this," Jacob pointed out. He was right; the faster she got rid of the explosives, the safer they would all be. But she couldn't leave just like that; Garrus would get killed with no one to back him up.

"We'll spit up," Shepard suggested, keeping the fear out of her voice. The last time she "split up" was on Virmire, with Kaidan and...Ashely. Ashely had died because she couldn't be in two places at once, couldn't go back to save her in time. "Two and two. Keep one of my team here."

"Are you sure?" Garrus asked, and for once, it seemed like she had kept him from guessing her feelings. "I mean, who knows what you'll find down there."

Shepard nodded and turned to Jacob. "Jacob, stay here with him. Keep him alive." She put a hand on his shoulder. Trusted crew member or not, he was still on her squad. She wasn't going to lose anyone because she wasn't fast enough. Not again. "Keep yourself alive, too."

"I will," he said with a daring smirk. "You keep her," he nodded to Miranda, "out of trouble."

"Cross my heart," she said. She took a look at Garrus, who surprisingly looked grateful.

"Thanks, Shepard." He nodded to the door and hoisted his gun up into his hands. "You better get going. Go down a level. The basement door is on the west side of the main room, behind the stairs." He looked directly at her now. "I'll radio directions if you need help. But you better get down there quick. Good luck." He turned away then and began to set up.

Shepard only nodded, though she knew he wouldn't see it.

She just hoped, as she walked out the door with Miranda, she wasn't about to repeat history.

* * *

"Close the shutter, I heard you!" Shepard screeched into her com, kicking a varren away from her and shooting it though the head. On the opposite side of the north hall, Miranda was shooting her gun and her biotics like crazy; she wasn't sure if it was good team work or if her survival instincts had kicked in. She'd take it, whatever the case.

It was gruesome. The Blood Pack spared no expense to make sealing the shutters the hardest task of the day.

The first two had been easy enough; the shutters each took ten seconds to close, and not many reinforcements were sent in to fight over it. But the north hall is where things got tricky.

The Blood Pack had waited for them, and as soon as they where in sight, both Shepard and Miranda had come under fire. It had take awhile just to get twenty five feet away from the door. She could see the button clearly. but every time she got close, she barely have time to duck into cover before more varren and vorcha would come onto the scene, pushing them backward and away from the shutters.

Shepard had already sustained more wounds than she would have liked; a varren claw to the face and a bite to the left forearm were more than enough where those beast were concerned. She supposed she had bruises from where a krogen had slugged her across the check. That man she had been more than happy to kill.

Miranda, she could see, had been grazed by bullets twice on the same arm, and the opposite leg had been bitten by a varren. There where cuts and bruised all over the skin she could see, and she could tell that the krogen she had just shot at close range and grabbed her wrist a little too tightly. They only had one medi-gel between them; Miranda was going to need it more by the looks of it.

"Shepard the longer you put it off," Garrus' voice told her, though she strained to hear it over the loud and rather dramatic hisses of a dying Blood Pack vorcha, "the more mercs are going to come through that door!"

"You think," she huffed, taking out two varren and a krogen before leaving her cover and inching closer to the door. "I don't," she paused to cover Miranda as she made to replicate her actions. "Know that?!"

"I know you know that Shepard. I can still send Jacob-"

"Don't!" she interrupted. "Keep him there, you'll need cover if I can't shut this damn door." She rolled out of cover and ran forward until she was only five feet away from the door. She dove behind a set of crates. Down the hall way and coming up fast were there very armed and _extremely _angry looking krogen.

"Shepard-"

"I've got the door," she huffed in annoyance. It was now or never. She jumped over the crate she was hiding behind and slammed the side of her fist against the button that would bring peace to this damned war-zone of a hallway. "You better have fanfare prepared for when we get back," Shepard gasped. "Miranda and I are superheros."

Garrus chuckled.

The door was nearly shut, and most of the Blood Pack in the room were being taken care of by Miranda and her biotics. The woman deserved the medi-gel.

A guttural roar that sent goosebumbs fluttering across her skin made Shepard spin around. She nearly screamed. A krogen had stuck his head and hands under the shutter and was slowly trying to lift it. So far, he was succeeding.

Her first thought was to shoot him, but that option quickly lost it's luster when she found she had no ammo. Her sniper was full but at the rate he was lifting the door, that wasn't going to do the trick fast enough. She thought about stepping on his fingers; but he could grab her and pull her down with him, and they'd both get crushed.

_Crushed!_

Shepard didn't hesitate and prayed that this would work. She punched the button over and over again, the door seeming to get heavier upon the alien under it each time. His eyes bulged and his fingers shook, but Shepard hit the button one last time, and the krogen was history. She wasn't sure what she had expected to happen other than a beheading; maybe his eyes to fall out of his skull. But beheading and removal of the phalanges was the creature's fate. It lay there, motionless and gushing blood and other weird things that made a sick _smack_ as it fell into the puddle. If she had been anyone else, she make have turned away to expel the contents of her stomach.

"Shepard?" Miranda called. "It everything good over there?"

She turned and walked toward the brunette. "Yeah," she said hoarsely. "Just catching my breath. Here," she said, waving her omni tool over Miranda. "Take it; you can possibly walk with that leg, and you fought..." she paused to think of a word. When nothing better came to mind she just shrugged. "You fought nicely. Good job."

"Nicely?" Miranda said, already healing herself. "I thought I was rather brilliant." She looked at Shepard's battered form, but Shepard only grimaced at the pity the formed in her eyes. "But thank you."

"No problem."

"Shepard?"

Shepard nodded her head to the door, indicating that Miranda follow. She grabbed as much spare ammo she could find before she left through the doors and back toward the base. "What's up?"

"Get back here. They're coming through the doors." In the background she could already hear the Blood Pack's leader, a krogan called Garm, shouting orders to kill. She cursed.

"Come on," she called to Miranda, "they're in the base, we've got to move!"

They sprinted to the exit. Shepard's heart was pounding. She wasn't sure if it was nerves or reckless joy anymore; it was such a messed up situation she'd gotten into that any feeling at all was good to her. Hell, the fact that no one was dead yet was a damned miracle. If they could survive that, then they could survive the next onslaught.

By the time she had entered the main floor, she watched Garm disappear up the stairs. She could see Jacob a few feet in front of them, fighting off the Blood Pack the best he could.

Her com was a bit fuzzy, but she still heard Garrus' voice say the Garm had him pinned. She assumed it was to Jacob.

"Cover him, Miranda. I'll take Garm."

She ran to the stairs, taking them two at a time. There was another krogen by the door, but before he could raise his gun to shoot, Shepard hit the creature in the face and popped two bullets into his brain.

"I could really use some help, Jacob!" Garrus called, but the raw fear in his voice sent chills down her spine. He was in deep shit, alright. He was confined to the back of the room near the rear window. Garm was hardly giving him an easy time. Every time Garrus would move, another spray of bullets would cut him off.

"I heard you could use some-" she hit the ground as Garm spun around to shower the wall with bullets, "-help, old friend!"

She heard Garrus snort. "It took you-" she heard him huff, no doubt ducking into cover, "-long enough!"

Shepard immediatly hopped out of cover and unloaded a round of bullets into the krogen. He gave an outraged roar and turned toward Shepard. She reloaded as fast as she could, and shot two more shots into the krogen's armor. His eyes were glazed over with blood rage, and for a small moment, fear seized her. But Garrus had recovered long enough to hop out of cover and sink a few shots into Garm himself. Garm's head turned, but Shepard had already switched to her pistol, and had begun to shoot him again. Garm roared, shooting in her direction. Lucky for her, Shepard rolled out of the way just in time. A bullet only hit her foot. She sucked in a sharp breath but stood, and shot him once more, drawing his attention back form Garrus.

"I've got at least twenty three bullets in him so far," Shepard taunted. She was trying to goad Garm away from the other.

"Only twenty three? I've sank at lest thirty into him," Garrus shouted back. Okay, so maybe not then. She quickly changed her plans when Garm turned his head toward Garrus and snarled. He advanced slowly on the other; Shepard snuck out of her cover. She met Garrus' eyes for a moment, and moved her hand in a forward motion.

_Keep talking!_

He seemed to get the hint. "Though I guessed as much Shepard; you're slipping." Five more feet.

"He was right there, right in front of you, and, no offense Garm, but he is _huge. "_

Three feet.

"And even if his size wasn't enough, you could miss an ugly maw like his. Truly, Garm, you haven't aged well."

Shepard pressed her pistol against Garm's head. He froze misstep and let out a rumbling growl. "Garrus, that was so mean." She pulled the trigger. Garm collapsed into the ground. "You should't speak ill of the dead."

Garrus cocked his head to onside. "Is that a human thing?" he asked.

"Yup. You okay?"

He shrugged. "Tough bastards. But I've seen worse." He gave Shepard a once-over, worry and sympathy filling his eyes. "You defiantly look worse."

"Gee, thank's Garrus!" Shepard said, plopping down onto a crate and sighed. "It's gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow."

He sighed as well. "You don't have any medi-gel?"

She shook her head. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and she noticed for the first time how badly her body ached. Her face throbbed with every beat of her heart. "I gave the last of it to Miranda. As bad as I am, she was worse."

Garrus glared toward where the woman was standing with Jacob. Shepard turned to look as well. It was awhile before he spoke again. "That's noble of you."

Shepard just shrugged. Garrus gave her a sympathetic stare. "Well, regardless, thanks for that. Had you not come up to help when you did, I'm not sure what the bullet ratio would have been when it came to bagging my remains. I think I'd be more metal than turian."

Shepard laughed a bit. It was tired and weak, but a laugh all the same. "Garrus Vakarian, you just took down two mercenary gangs, using only a shotgun and a sniper. Your thoughts?" She held out an invisible microphone out to him as if she were a newswoman.

"That this day just keeps getting better and better." He smiled. "Garm was a tough son of a bitch."

She sighed. "There's still more where that came from." Her gaze moved to her bleeding foot. "The Blue Sun's are left. I say we take our chances and fight our way out."

"I say you're right." Garrus shrugged, his voice taking on a more relaxed tone. "Tarak's got the toughest group, nothing we haven't dealt with before."

Shepard nodded and stood up, testing her weight on her foot. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip; a searing hot pain tore through her, and her vision had gone fuzzy around the edges. She'd have to work with it though, at least until she could get to the medical bay. She looked at Garrus, a bit worried. "You think we can make it out in one piece?"

"Sure," Garrus said. "Besides, he won't be expecting us to meet him head on-"

Shepard hadn't really been paying attention; behind Garrus, a gunship had mad an appearance. She immediately felt regret for not sabotaging the ship when she had a chance.

She wasn't sure if turians could pale as humans did, but the look in his eye said he had not been expecting Tarak so soon. Or, for that matter, a gunship to back him up.

Shepard took cover with Garrus behind a couch. Gunfire flew across the room.

"Dammit!" she heard Garrus curse. "I thought I took that thing out!"

Shepard nodded. "You did. They were fixing it up when I came here."

Garrus slid her an icy stare. The guilt and regret of leaving the gunship be intensified. "That would have been a lovely thing to list among the Blue Suns' assets, don't you think, Shepard?"

"I know," she sighed. "I didn't think it would be ready to fly into the fight." She decided to leave the part about the sabotage out.

Shepard peered out from her cover, and Garrus followed her lead. The ship had turned a bit so the door was now facing the window. Troops filed in through it, shooting as soon as their feet hit the floor.

Among them was Jentha, a ruthless human member of the Blue Suns. They had spoken when she'd signed up to find Archangel; the bitch was out for blood when it came to Garrus. All she had been able to pull from her story was that the Archangel and twelve others who followed in his stead were notorious for shutting down Suns operation and influence where ever it may have been. There had been an attempt on the life of Tarak, but that was all Shepard could figure out.

"They're offloading troops," Garrus growled, gripping his shotgun. "Watch you back Shepard."

She gripped her pistol and stood, favoring her right foot. She didn't have to shoot much, before something grabbed the back of her armor and spun her around. Jentha made for a left hook to her already damaged face. Shepard had enough sense to dodge the attack, and launch herself around the other's middle, taking the both off their feet. They rolled apart and made to stand; Jentha still had a firm grip on her weapon. Shepard's was by the others feet.

Jentha readied her gun even from their position on the floor, but Shepard kicked upward enough with her good foot to dislodge the gun from the other's hold. Standing up, she grabbed Jentha by her neck and brought her head down on hers. There was a sickening crack that came from Jentha's skull, and Shepard almost smiled with sick satisfaction. She dropped the human woman and looked out toward the ground floor.

The Blue Suns were already making their way up the stairs. Shepard grabbed her pistol from the floor and left Jentha on the ground, moaning in agony. In truth, even her head had ached a bit from the headbut. But she was focused enough to shoot two oncoming Blue Suns mercs as the set foot through the door. Three batarian behind them were flung backward against the wall, and she saw Miranda take each one of them down.

Jacob was out the door, and fighting near the stairs. A turian merc had just been shot in the neck by the man. and Jacob kicked the body down the stairs, effectively denying several others sure footing and sending them tumbling down as well.

Shepard put away her pistol and, for the third time that hour, brought out her Widow. She took out two mercenaries on the stairs who were trying to stagger up to Jacob. He finished of the last one himself. The others fell rather quickly after that. She would finish one man, Jacob would shoot another, and the occasional body would fly by at inhuman speeds into walls thanks to Miranda.

Movement behind her; Shepard started to turn, but felt the barrel of Jentha's gun against her skull and froze. Jentha's breathing was labored and coming out in quick aggravated puffs.

A gunshot rang through the air, and Shepard's eyes closed. Another shot, closer. She didn't move until she felt the floor was slippery with Jentha's blood.

She didn't turn to thank Miranda, but let out a heavy sigh of relief. She owed her one. It was over. The Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and Eclipse had been taken out.

She stood slowly, and got out her pistol, turning to Garrus. Just a precaution; though the sound of gunfire was only an echo, stragglers could remain. And there was that damned gunship. So it wasn't _quite _over, but over enough to get out.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the ship hovered into view in the window by the bridge. Garrus was standing closer to the window than she, facing the opposite way. Shepard eyes widened in shock and fear.

"Archangel!" Tarak shouted through the ship's com.

Garrus spun around, seeming to recognize the voice, and began to shoot. Shepard, Jacob, and Miranda dove for different positions of cover across the room. Gunship fire flew through the room, and Garrus was in the middle of it. A few sudden jerks of his body told her he'd been hit more than once. The turian went down, his face contorted in agony.

"Garrus!" Shepard screamed, trying to move closer to him. He had managed to pull himself into cover, but it wasn't going to last him very long. Not against a gunship. Not against Tarak.

"Think you can screw with the Blue Suns?" Tarak taunted.

Garrus pulled himself up and peeked over his shoulder. He was going to move in on Tarak again. Wounded as he was. She almost called out to him again, but all she could do was watch in horror, frozen to her own cover in sheer terror for her friend.

"This ends now." Tarak's voice sounded so final, and it added rage to the list of feeling that glued her to the spot. And with that, and explosion lit up the room. Tarak had fired a rocket at Garrus.

His body hit the ground hard, bounce, and rolled a few feet from the window. Then it was still, too still to be living.

"Garrus!" Shepard called, trying to rouse him, though she knew it had to be futile. The rocket had been shot at a close range; his motionless body only negated her desperate wishes.

Shepard switched to her shot gun, fury now replacing adrenaline. Tarak was a dead man.

She sprang out of cover, shooting and limping as fast as she could. Tarak shot back, but thankfully couldn't hit her fast enough before she made it to the stack of crates closest to the exit. He put away her gun, and grabbed her weapon of choice.

The ship had taken to flying to the window across from her where it had dropped off the Blue Suns troops. She stood and limped toward the opening. The sick son of a bitch way going to pay. He would die in that machine that had killed her friend. She readied the grenade launcher, and as the gunship spun to aim a shower of bullets, she fired. She ship swayed unsteadily in the air, and she could see the troops that it had planned to let off wobble unsteadily.

Good. She loosed another grenade, and this time the ship lurched forward. Shepard hoped, for once, that this batarian suffered. For whatever he had done to Garrus, for whatever his gang had done on Omega, she hoped he shouldered the suffering, all of it, and hoped he felt it burning in the fires of hell. It was a shock to her system to think that way, but revenge could do that, or so she was told. She let loose the final grenade.

The ship exploded. Sparks and fire flew every which way, and pieces of machine showered down like rain. It was a regular fireworks display. But it could only hold her attention for so long. She quickly limped back to Garrus. Jacob and Miranda where already making there way to his body.

He lay with one arm out under his head in a pool of blood. His eyes were shut and his mouth slightly open. His stillness brought ice into her veins. She reach out to turn him over, a lump in her throat. Her best friend lay out dead in front of her, and all she could do was have joker come pick them up. Garrus had been one of the few connections to her old life. Her real life. God only knew if, or when, she'd see Tali again. And even then, her friend wanted nothing to do with Cerberus. Garrus was come into the fight willingly, and had planned to leave the fight and join Shepard once more by. A loyal friend. She should have screamed, said something, warned him maybe. He shouldn't have died like this; a solider like Garrus didn't deserve to die like a common mercenary.

And then Renita Shepard heard the most amazing sound in the world; Garrus Vakarian gasping for breath.

"Garrus!" Shepard gasped. She could quite place the emotions in her voice. It sounded like relief, happiness, and worry.

His gasping only increased as he tried to move. "We're getting you out of here, Garrus. Just hold on." She turned to Jacob. "Radio Joker. Make sure they're ready for us."

"Shepard..." Jacob murmured, "he...he's not gonna make it." He put a hand on her shoulder.

Shepard shook it off. "Mirnada?" she asked.

Her hand was already hailing Joker. She readied herself to move Garrus. They'd have to be fast, and with her foot, she hoped they could be. They needed him alive for this mission.

As she and Jacob hauled him across the bridge, Shepard heard his staggered breathing mixed with the occasional gurgled cough. She closed her eyes; she needed him alive too.

She prayed that Jacob was wrong.

* * *

Shepard and Jacob stood quietly in the communications and meeting room. It was brightly lit with a table in the middle to conduct strategy meetings before battle if necessary. EDI, the ships VI, glowed in the middle of the table in the shape of a blue sphere. But no one spoke a word.

Shepard had her head down, and her hands gripping the side of the table. Even with the medi-gel, bandaging, pain medication Doctor Chakwas had given her, she still favored her right foot. Her arms were bandaged where she'd been bitten, and shot, and the right side of her face sported a bandage to cover the claw marks. Chakwas had insisted she receive a few vaccinations as soon as possible, considering all the diseases varren could spread. The bruised side of her face was clearing up, but she could still feel her pulsing heartbeat under her cheek.

But that could have been nerves.

Finally, Jacob cleared his throat. "Commander," he started, folding his arms across his chest. "We've done what we could for Garrus," he paused to take a deep breath, "but her took a bad hit." Jacob tilted his head down, the floor suddenly becoming the most interesting part of this conversation.

"The docs corrected as much as they could with surgical procedures and some cybernetics. Best we can tell, he'll have full functionality, but..."

A strong wave of peace claimed Shepard, followed but a stab of fear. "But...?"

The door to the room suddenly opened. Garrus waltz through the opening, as if nothing had happened. The armor around his head was chipped and burnt away. A hole and cup on the right side marked where the missile had hit. But so did his face.

Along the side of his face, he was scarred. It looked, as of right now, like a horrible burn. From his eye, along his jaw, to the front of his mouth, his right side would forever bear that scar. It defiantly added to the dangerous facade he sometimes pretended he had.

"Shepard," he greeted, nodding his head to her. Shepard smile a little.

"Tough son of a bitch," Jacob said appreciatively. "Didn't think he' be up yet."

Garrus shook his head. "They wouldn't give me a mirror," he complained, meeting Shepard's steady gaze. "How bad is it?"

Shepard shrugged. He looked dangerous, that she knew. But most turians had scars anyway. "Hell, Garrus," she said, crossing her arms. "You were always ugly. If you slap some face paint on there, no one will even notice."

Garrus guffawed for a second or two before he touched his scar and ground his teeth. But the humor was still in his eyes. "Ah! Ouch, don'y make me laugh dammit. My face is barely holding together as it is!"

"S'not so bad," Shepard said lightly, folding her arms. "You will have some scars, though."

Garrus smirked with the good side of his mouth. "Some people find facial scars attractive," he said, eyeing Shepard's bandaged cheek. Her jew dropped a bit, and she could feel her cheeks heat up.

"Mind you, most of those 'people'," he make air quotes around the word people, "are krogen."

Shepard laughed out loud, and turned to introduce Jacob, only to notice he had already left. "So," she started, trying to pick passed the awkward "dead for two years" bit that she knew was weighing heavily on his mind.

"So," Garrus said back, a bit firmer. "Cerberus, huh? The crazy humans who conducted experiments on your leftover team on Akuze? What happened there? Finally got tired of being a part Alliance Navy?"

This time Shepard's cheeks reddened with anger. "You know me better that that, Vakarian."

"Do I?" he mused. "I seem to recall that you knew me once, too. So, what is there a no contact with you old team rule, or-"

"I knew you were going to find something to pick at," Shepard groaned. "If I could, have I would have told _everyone._"

"You could have sent an email, a voice memo, a tshirt. 'My friend joined Cerberus and all I got...was this..." Garrus trailed off, studying her face. She must have been giving off some intense emotions there, because immediacy, Garrus' face was filled with chagrin. "Sorry. But I have got to know; where were you for two years?"

"Comatose," she mumbled. "I don't know how Cerberus found me, or why they brought me back. But I woke up while the facility I was in was under attack, two years after I supposedly died." She shrugged. "I've gotten used to the idea of working with Cerberus, but I don't work _for _them."

They were both quiet for a moment. When Garrus spoke, it was in a kinder tone, understanding. "Well, I can respect that." He took a look around the room. "It's nice to be back on the Normandy," a pause. "Well, _a _Normandy. It beats Omega."

Shepard gave him a lopsided smile. "Welcome back, Garrus. You're a welcomed addition to any crew of mine, Cerberus or otherwise."

"Well, to tell you the truth, the life a vigilantly was getting kinda boring." Garrus gave her the same smile back, before turning to go. "I'm glad you're alive Shepard."

Shepard's eyes followed him until the door closed.

All and all, she was glad he was alive too.


	2. The Salarian Doctor

**A/N: Hello there! So, I noticed that people read the first installment of this (Archangels and Gunsmoke), and I thought, what the hell, I should do it. I should write a fanfiction. So this is the second bit of that, continuing from the first chapter. As always, some ****dialogue comes from the game, while other parts of it are of my own imagination. The plot, the characters, the names, places, all of that jazz belongs to the lovely EA and BioWare! Let me know if there is anything you want to see written. I may already have plans for it! Review, fave, and follow as you wish.**

**Side notes: *Though I admit some things are not correct or are added in, you can actually bring Garrus into the quarantine zone. I've done it. It's the best.**

***I feel like though they have become much more advanced, the human race will still make references way before their time. Maybe not to other species, but to other humans? Definitely. At least, that's my ****head canon.**

***I really hope I stayed enough in character. There is a lot more conversation now that Garrus is included, and by that I mean conversation of my own creation. I'm not too worried about Shepard. I sort of take the "create your own character and input/create a personality" route. But let me know if Garrus and Jacob are annoyingly out of character.**

***Also, as a final side note, on Youtube if you look up ME2 Dossier: The Professor, and turn on YT captions, the dialogue gets FUNNY. Can you guess which part I'm referring to?**

* * *

Ren Shepard stared at the door to Afterlife, Omega's most popular and most dangerous dance club. Popular because, as like all other dark corners of the station, it attracted seemed to attract all sorts of trouble. Mercenaries, sleazy human males, scantily dressed asari, any many others where lined up outside the door. It was dangerous because of Aria T'loak

The asari was, to quote, the CEO, the queen if one was feeling dramatic, of Omega. She knew everything about the station, and controlled enough people on Omega to be considered dangerous. If Aria wanted you, you went to her, no questions asked. She also had a nasty habit of exchanging information for unspoken favors. She never told anyone outright about it, but if you were smart you could see it in her eyes. And Shepard was, at this time, avoiding asking for anymore than she already had.

"Just go in, get the information, and get out." Garrus Vakarian, formerly known as Archangel, a former C-Sec officer, turian, and friend gave her a push toward the door. She slid a side ways glare toward him, and he smirked with the good side of his face.

She gripped the data pad in her hand tightly and then loosened her grip again. It held information about Aria that one of the mercenary groups had dug up on her. She figured that this in exchange would make them almost even. A few days ago, Shepard had marched into Omega and asked about the more interesting dossier, which, in turn, turned out to be her close friend Garrus. At least now she'd only owe her a single favor.

"EDI?" Shepard asked. EDI was the Normandy SR-2's AI and the current bane of Joker's existence. Her voice came alive with a slight beep. "You haven't found anything else other than the fact that this guy runs a clinic in the slums? Do you know if he's there now?"

The AI was quick to respond. "My knowledge of him is limited to the dossier and other leaked information. I cannot confirm he is at his clinic right now, but I cannot deny the fact that there is a statistical possibility he is there. However, I have picked of reports of a plague in that general area of the clinic."

Shepard sighed. "Alright. Thank you, EDI."The AI shut off, and Shepard stared at the door in silence again. She really didn't want to do this, she didn't want to owe her a favor. But on the other hand, she always had a saying when it came to times like this. When in doubt, drink afterward to forget. This was going to take a lot of alcohol.

Behind her, Garrus groaned. "Would you go in already? It's either talk to Aria or take your chances with a plague and iffy directions."

Her other companion, Jacob Taylor, had spoken up for the first time since they had arrived. "Have you ever met Aria T'loak? In the first two minutes our feet touched the station to look for your sorry ass, one of her men came to us, demanded our presence, and pointed about half a dozen guns in our faces." He looked pointedly at Garrus. "I wouldn't exactly be rushing back into her arms if I were Shepard. She's already been dead once."

Shepard rolled her eyes. That comment was enough to get her animated again as she pushed the button to open the doors. Muted music shook the walls of the hallway surrounded by holographic flames.

The trio walked though the doors, and Shepard shook her head, trying to clear out any nervousness she had. She was already forced under the Illusive Man's thumb, and so far, no one could trust her as far as they could throw her; and that said a lot given the biotics these days.

"Commander Mars Shepard, Alliance Navy. The woman who defeated Saren, Sovereign, and the geth. Savior of the Citadel. Once bitten, twice reckless as the humans say. And you can't face an asari who has a little power?" Garrus teased. "How hard did you hit your head when you died?"

Shepard lightly smacked the back of his head. "Would you stop?" she growled. "It's not about her, her mercs, or her power. It's about owing someone like her a favor."

Jacob nodded his head in agreement. "She doesn't trade any information freely. She just doesn't tell you that. You never know when she'd going to collect or what she'd going to have you do." He shrugged. "Information always has a cost."

The commander pinched the bridge of her nose and laughed bitterly. "In two years, that seems to be the only thing that hasn't changed." She opened the door at the end of the hallway.

The base of the music hit Shepard's ears full force as the entered the club. Wrapped around the room there were tables hidden in dark corners, no doubt hiding something illegal. There was a bar to the left of the doors where different species drank and happily lolled along the bar itself or against another, more sober costumer. The lights were dim and flashing orange red against the metal floor. In the middle of the room hug a large, cylindrical screen glowed a warm fuchsia and flashed images of scantily clad asari dancers. If that wasn't ostentatious enough, the floor around the screen opened up and around it there was a balcony where many males of Shepard's own species drooled over the dancers themselves. There was a circular bar hanging by poles from the ceiling and surrounding the ring on which the asari twisted. The whole scene resembled Chora's Den, the male entertainment club back on the Citadel. As they passed by a particularly large group of intoxicated males, to her chagrin Shepard heard both Jacob and Garrus whistle appreciatively.

She sighed. At least they were blending in.

In the back of the room there was a double staircase that led to a more private area. Each side had a very dangerous looking alien with a gun to guard it. The private area was small, and bout six other "guards" stood around a short, wide stair case that lead to a wrap-around couch and balcony that over saw the whole club. It was there that Aria would sit and wait like a spider in her web.

Shepard turned to her companions before ascending the stairs. She offered Garrus a tight-lipped smile. "I need to you act normal up there, okay? Stay on the platform below the stairs. The last time I was here, they scanned up and checked for weapons."

"Okay," Garrus said, making the word sound more like a question.

"That would be okay, but hopefully they won't know your sniper. There are a few mercs around there that reek of the Blue Suns," Shepard murmured.

She saw Garrus stiffen at her words, and she quickly added, "I don't think they know who you are, or that you're," she lowered her voice, "alive." She glanced over her shoulder. "Just don't give them any reason to think you're...well, you know. As long as they think you're with Jacob and I, you should be safe. Understood?"

Garrus's jaw clenched and he winced a bit. "Understood."

She turned to Jacob, who's attention for the moment was all on her. By the look in his eyes, she could tell that Afterlife made him feel on edge as well. Funny how this place could set him off, but working for Cerberus allowed him a peaceful night's rest. "Jacob, you know the drill."

"Yeah. I don't think they'll do another scan though."

"Maybe not," she allowed. She eyed the turian next to them and then turned them back to Jacob. "But please, don't throw around the word Archangel," the last word she leaned in to whisper. "It could get both of you hurt."

"Understood, Commander," Jacob said with a nod.

Shepard gave both of them a once over and then gave them each a nod. "The last thing we need today is a gunfight in a bar." And with that she ascended the stairs that lead to Aria. As she reached the top, a batarian pressed a warning hand to her chest and shook his head. Aria's head snapped around as she caught his motion in her peripheral.

The asari was, in this light, purple-toned. Her lips were darkened with lipstick and her face was outlined in tattoo's that somehow set off her pissy mood. It was probably in the way they arched like eyebrows above her eyes and the line of it that looked like a thick lip ring. She wore a short, white, red-nylon-lined jacket that exposed her shoulders and midriff. It buckled across her chest, and covered little else. Though the outfit left very little to the imagination, Shepard thought that she looked less like sex and more like venom. Like a snake, watching you with her sharp, blue eyes.

She gave Shepard a dark smirk before taking a seat on the couch and signaling for the batarian to let her by.

She gestured for Shepard to sit. She did, trying to keep her distance as far as possible without being offensive.

Before Shepard could open her mouth, Aria spoke. "So I heard the lower levels of Omega where silenced a few days ago." Her cold eyes slid a sideways glance to Shepard. "Three mercenary group leaders all dead."

Shepard took a deep breath. "I heard something like that, but I really don't like to concern myself with the politics of Omega. Or, rather, lack thereof, " she said softly.

Aria smiled darkly and took her eyes off of Shepard to stare straight ahead. The other followed her eyes, and what they had landed on made Shepard's breath catch and her posture become rigid. Aria was eyeing Garrus with a knowing look.

"I hear that the Archangel is dead," she mused, tapping her chin in mock thought. "But sources say they found no body. So I can't really be sure." She shrugged and swiveled her head to look at Shepard, and Shepard averted her eyes, trying to focus on anything else. "The batarian from the Blue Suns - what was his name? Turk? Tarleck? Tarak? - I had heard he managed to shoot the bastard with a missile before he crashed his gunship."

Shepard tried to keep her face calm. Damn her and her games. Damn her for knowing, damn the Illusive Man for putting her in this position, and damn Cerberus altogether. The data pad was to be used to buy her back a favor. She'd only owe one favor if she'd shown T'loak the information stored on it and told her the intentions of what was to be done with it. But now? She'd owe her two favors. One for the information on Archangel's whereabouts, and another for maintaining the illusion that he was dead. Oh, how she hated this; she was stuck in Cerberus's cage because she needed help, and now it seemed she would have to be chained to Aria.

"If he _is _alive," Aria droned, breaking Shepard from her way of thought, "he would probably have a scar." Her smile belonged to the devil and she brought her gaze to the turian who was now making small talk with Jacob. "Maybe broken armor," she tacked on. "Definitely hard to miss."

Shepard's glare was deadly and steady as she met Aria's eyes. "He's dead," She said through her teeth. "I was just getting to the bridge when I saw him killed. His body was obliterated. The only thing that would be left would be anything you can scrape off the walls."

Aria nodded. "I thought so."

There was a pregnant pause before Shepard handed Aria the data pad. "I found this while I was going after Archangel. They were coming for you next." She sat back and watched Aria as she tried to control the anger in her eyes. It was there for only moment, and was replace by her normal, cold exterior.

"Interesting," she murmured, staring at the words on the screen.

Her face suddenly contorted in anger and she flung the pad at the batarian guard, knocking him on the head. She stubbled to catch the data before it could shatter on the ground. "Would somebody like to tell me how this information slipped the net?!" Her voice was heard clearly above the music and was filled with such rage and venom that even Shepard leaned away from her.

"I-I'll look into it," the batarian stuttered, trying to collect himself.

Aria bared her teeth at the other in a vicious, animalistic growl before settling back into the couch. Her calm was gone, but she seemed to regain some kind of control as she took a deep breath.

"Thanks for the heads-up, Shepard," Aria said, and her voice was voice of any kind of malice. She still sounded like a bitch, sure, but there was a bit of thankfulness mixed into her usual conduct. "Look's like I'll have to do a little cleaning in my organization."

Shepard nodded. "I owed you for the head's up about the merc recruitment," she said honestly. "And speaking of, I..." she hesitated. Was going in blind really such a bad idea? So what if he wasn't there? Omega was a big ship, but the guy had to come back eventually. But despite her resistance to the alien's help, she needed to know where he would be. "I'm looking for Mordin Solus. Do you have any idea where I could find him?"

Aria's smirk turned from condescending to impressed. He toned sounded a bit shocked as she spoke. "The salarian doctor?"

Shepard gave her a quick nod.

"Last I heard he was trying to help plague victims in the quarantine zone."

So EDI had ben correct about a plague breakout. Freaking excellent; it was the cherry-on-top to the day. Jeez, if she got anymore pessimistically sarcastic, she'd sprout mandibles and a head fringe.

Aria continued. "I always liked Mordin. He's as likely to heal you as he is to shoot you."

_Very _reassuring.

"How do I get to him?"

Aria rolled her eyes, her expression back to being pinched in annoyance. "If you really need to find him, take a shuttle to the quarantine zone. No guarantee they'll let you in of course."

Shepard nodded grimly and stood. She had her information, and understood the terms of the favors she owed Aria, that she could come at anytime to collect. "Thanks for your time and the information, T'loak. I should go and find him while he's still kicking."

Aria gave her a bored look. "Just don't bring the plague back with you," she spat.

Shepard grit her teeth as she took the steps and wondered vaguely if this disease affected the asari.

She passed Jacob and Garrus and gave them a head nod, indicating that the discussion was over. As soon as they where out of ear shot from the guard stationed at the foot of the stairs, Garrus let loose a long relieved sigh.

"See what I mean?" Shepard sighed, making a beeline for the bar.

"All I saw were two Blue Suns mercs that wouldn't stop eyeing my scar."

Jacob nodded and looked over his shoulder. "I had to get him talking about the news about the 'fallen Archangel'. Even then, glad we left when we did."

Shepard signaled the bartender - a turian with a long fringe and red face paint that made him look menacing in the light of the room - for three shots and transferred the funds via omnitool. Their drinks were served quickly, and the bartender made sure to set apart the red-tinted dextro drink meant for the turian. Shepard downed hers as soon as it grazed her fingertips.

Garrus chuckled and took his drink. "Do you think it's wise to drink right before a mission?" he teased. Shepard only shot him a withering glare to which he answered with an uncharacteristic snort. He revised. "So, where are we headed?"

Shepard sighed and cleared her throat. "A quarantined plague zone. Hence," she gestured toward the bar halfheartedly, "the alcohol."

Jacob downed his own drink and rolled his shoulders. "Ready when you are," was all he said.

_When in doubt drink, and when in peril, drink more._ She smiled to herself as she started toward the exit. A first meeting with a supposed "mad scientist" who was not only handy with a gun but locked away in a quarantined zone.

Yep. In this situation, she deemed it very wise to drink.

* * *

"I told you to get lost lady. The plague has the whole zone quarantined! Nobody gets in!" A turain. Male. Armored with a gun poised and ready in his arms. Hired guard, and probably a pain in the ass.

"I'm _human _you ass! Humans can't get the plague." Human female. Short hair. Resident. Loud. Not armed. Colossal bitch, give or take the situation. But it was most likely a fact. "Now let me get my stuff before looters get to it!"

The turian narrowed his eyes on her. "This plague affects every other thing out there. We're not taking chances!" He pointed a sharp finger in her face as if to make the point clearer. "Nobody gets in until the plague has run its course."

Shepard had watched this conversation with piqued interest. She had to get into the quarantine zone, no matter the chances of survival. If she was lucky, maybe Cerberus would find a new N7 recruit to resurrect. She interjected her comment as the woman next to her started to open her mouth. "So you're saying the slums are completely sealed off?" she asked, faking the irritation she let leak into her tone.

The turain looked slightly taken aback as she simplified his words. "Finally a human that can hear! Yes, that's _exactly _what I'm saying."

"You can't keep me out!" the woman blurted. "I'm gonna loose all my stuff."

A pang of pity for her hit Shepard, and she made a mental note to clear each home of raiders, albeit she found any.

"I'm doing you a favor, human," the guard growled out with infinite patience. "Anybody in the quarantine zone will be dead from the plagues or the gangs in a few weeks."

Oh joy. Gangs had already surfaced. Not that it was particularly surprising; it wasn't at all, actually. But the visit with T'loak had all but withered her patience. Blue Suns, Blood Pack, or anything else she found down there would all be subject to immediate termination if they shot first.

"I didn't think Omega had any kind of law enforcement, " Shepard stated honestly. "Who gave you the order to quarantine the slums?"

The turian chuckled an bit and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Fresh off the transports, huh?" he asked, and there was a condescending note to it, like he was talking to a child. "Aria T'loak calls the shots around here."

"Of course she does," Shepard mumbled low enough so that only she could hear. She had been vaguely hoping that he'd just been a good samaritan. Or a hired merc. Or an undercover C-Sec officer. Or anything else that wasn't involved with Aria.

"She's got her little blue hands on every business in this district," the other continued. "And the plague is bad for business. She hired us to keep anyone from entering or leaving the quarantine zone."

Shepard shook her head. "Well I'm sorry, but there is a salarian named Mordin Solus in the slums. I've got to get in there to find him."

The guard's face went from understanding patience to an annoyed sneer. "The doctor?" He huffed and turned his back. "That crazy bastard opened a clinic in the district a few months ago. The Blue Suns weren't too happy when he moved in."

Fan-_freaking_-tastic. The Blue Suns would probably know her face instantly. _  
_

"I hear Mordin is trying to deal with the plague," the guard went on, his face softening a degree. I wish him luck." Then more seriously, "But the area is still locked down. Our orders are to wait until either the plague or the Blue Suns kill everyone. Then go in and clean up."

And just like that, Shepard felt the need to step in not because of her mission and the help that was required, but because of the cruel orders from Aria. Innocent people dying was not something that happened on her watch. She wanted to kick herself, but even if she didn't want to help these strangers, she would have.

"Any idea where I can find Mordin's clinic?" she asked, walking to step passed the turian. He grabbed her arm roughly and tossed her back a few feet. She felt Garrus's hand brush her elbow to steady her while she shot daggers at the alien in front of them.

"No one get's through here. I'm sorry." He shifted his gun and rolled his neck. "And to answer your question, no. Not a clue. But it doesn't matter. The place in quarantined. No one is getting in or out."

"What's with this plague anyway?" Garrus asked, his voice frustrated, his stance C-sec stiff. "The human said it doesn't affect her kind. What then?"

The turian shifted his feet, sizing up Garrus. A male thing, she was sure. "It's starts out as a cough," he said darkly. "Then, you start coughing blood. And then..." he hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, then I shoot you."

Shepard flinched at the coldness of the statement.

"It affects multiple species," he continued. "Turians, salarains, krogan, you name it. Only humans are immune. And vorcha, if you count them." The turian spat the other species name in disgust, and Shepard found she couldn't blame him. Her back and ribs still bore the fading bruises from her last encounter, so she wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy toward them. "An airborne disease that takes down multiple races?" He shook his head. "Can't let that spread."

Shepard slowly nodded. "So you mentioned the Blue Suns," Shepard said cautiously. "What brings them here?"

"The local mercenary gang? They've had territory here for years." The turian suddenly avoided her eyes. "Mostly turian though. After a few weeks, they've all but been wiped out. The territory is up for grabs now." He shrugged and swiveled his head to that he was looking at the doors to the slums. "I hear the vorcha are making a move. The plague can't hurt them; _they're _ immune to disease."

Shepard crossed her arms and rose an eyebrow. She could see it in the way he talked about the vorcha and about the Blue Suns. More likely than not, he had a friend who went in, got hit by the plague, and never came out. Vorcha started to move in around the time of the quarantine, and she was willing to bet he nor any other guards weren't going to risk their hide to avenge a fallen comrade. No matter if it was a friend or just the same species,

He'd want to leave this spot as much as she wanted to find the professor.

"Listen," Shepard drawled, running a hand through her hair, "you're stuck here 'till this quarantine is over." The other only nodded slowly so she continued. "That could take weeks." She shifted her body a bit so that her hand was resting on her gun. "What you really need is to get this problem solved right now."

The turian cocked his head to the side, mandibles quirked into a curious expression. "I'm listening."

Shepard smiled a bit. "You see, that's what I do; solve problems. Let me in," her thumb jerked toward the entrance, "and I'll get this district sorted out."

The turian let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, shit. You think you can fix this?"

Shepard only nodded.

"Then why not? The quarantine is mostly to keep infected people in anyway." He shrugged and Shepard had to fight hard against the oncoming smile. "I'll radio ahead, tell them you're coming."

"Wait!" the human female cried, turning her flaming eyes onto Shepard who only gave her a sheepish half-smile in return. "You're stopping me and not them? You sonofabitch!"

The guard just rolled his eyes. "_You _don't have a grenade launcher, lady."

She snarled a few unintelligible curse words in outrage and stomped off to some other part of the district.

Shepard turned to her companions and smiled in triumph. If there was one thing that came over into this next life it was her silver tongue.

Garrus was the first to speak. "A quarantine zone with a plague that kills turians." He gave a mock sigh. "Why can't we ever go someplace nice?"

Shepard snorted, and moved her hand to cover her mouth and muffle her laughter. "You are going someplace nice," she said between giggles. "Jacob, radio Miranda and tell her we'll need her help on this mission."

Garrus narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

Shepard turned to Garrus. Honestly, she _did_ want to take him with her. It would have been like old times. Sarcastic banter, keeping score by a point system based on which part of the body took the kill shot. Had this been a different situation, Garrus would have been on his first mission in two years with her. But she wouldn't risk her teammate - her friend - like that.

Her eyes narrowed at the strange expression Garrus was giving her. He looked almost angry. Normally, a frown and sense of mild annoyance was all you received from Vakarain when he expressed displeasure. "What?" she asked sharply.

"You aren't sending me back to the Normandy."

"Oh yes I am," Shepard snapped. "You have an open wound on your face. You're a turian. You stay behind this time, Garrus." She shook her head. "If the risk was less, I'd consider letting you come. But this?" She shook her head.

Garrus glowered at her. "Miranda or no, I'm coming with you on this mission."

"It's not that important Garrus," Shepard insisted. "Besides, Doctor Chakwas said you should rest up anyway. You could - "

"I'm not going to let -"

"- play solitaire, catch up with Joker -"

"- a damn cough -"

"- and do as the doctor said instead of completely ignoring my orders!"

"- slow me down!"

They had both spoken over each other as they often did when they argued. Voices raising over each others in an attempt to be heard by the other while others, to their chagrin, stared in confusion. They had both heard each other loud and clear, and Shepard knew from experience that though she was stubborn, she could never win against Garrus.

"I said no," she stated firmly, knowing she sounded more like a mother than the commander she was supposed to be.

"And I'm electing to ignore that you did," Garrus countered.

"Garrus, the risk -"

"Is nothing worse than what we've been through before," he finished. She had to admit, he had a valid point. But she didn't have to like it.

They stared each other down for what felt like an hour before Shepard growled, "Scratch the call, Jacob. Miranda needs to rest her leg anyway." Which was partially true; she'd been bitten by a varren the last time they'd entered into a mission together. But medigel had healed most of it. But if she made it sound like this was about Miranda more than it was her having a slight soft spot for Garrus, it made the command seem for official.

Jacob closed his omnitool. "I didn't even make the call." He glanced back and forth between the turian and the the commander. "You can taste the tension," he joked lightly. That was enough to get Shepard to pull away from the other, only then noticing their close proximity.

"If you so much as cough..." Shepard threatened.

Garrus readied his shotgun and gave her a low chuckle. "I'm guessing you'll make sure it's not the plague that kills me?"

Shepard couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter. "You bet your suicidal ass, Vakarian."

* * *

Shepard was never quite sure how she was able to stomach some of the things she'd seen over her years as a member of the Alliance. It could have been the first time she'd been assigned on a mission and her the soldier next to her had been turned to swiss cheese. It could have been Akuze, where the loss of her troops had put a lot in perspective. It could have been a lot of things.

So when the smell of roasting flesh hit her nostrils, she barely gagged.

Two mercenaries, batarian by the looks of them, had just been taken down. Shepard had killed one with a shot to the head, and Jacob with one through the throat.

Jacob took a look around, and gave a low whistle. "Burning corpses," he said softly. "Trying to keep the plague form spreading." The sadness in his voice shocked Shepard. These were aliens burning, not people. Cerberus couldn't care less about them. Perhaps there was still some Alliance left in him.

Garrus sighed. "At some point in my life, I got used to the smell of burning bodies...that's probably bad."

She always found it eerie how he could echo her thoughts so accurately. "Probably," was all she said.

A door was across the walkway, and was open. They would start here and look for survivors, looters, mercs. But when the door opened, it was a storage room. There were piles of junk and power cells. Broken guns on work benches, boxes of various supplies lining the walls, and everything tinted read under the hue of the red-orange glow of the lights. A door was easily hackable to their right.

When it opened, Shepard closed her eyes in grief and flinched as she heard Garrus take a sharp breath. She knew this was a bad idea, taking him here. Exposing him to the effects of this strange cross-species plague.

"Scratch marks," Jacob said softly, keeling over one of the bodies. "Must've tried to claw his way out."

"A grim way to die," Garrus breathed.

She felt sick. Where the the burning flesh didn't touch her, the claw marks would. She made her way over to a computer console on the opposite side of the room. There were recordings, an angry coughing turian ranting about the "idiots who could tell the plague from a simple cough" and about his dead friend. About hearing his voice after he'd passed on.

She could feel Garrus's presence behind her. "Still think this was a good idea, Vakarian?"

"Everything dies, Commander," he said formally. "But...probably not like this."

She smiled ruefully. "C'mon," she addressed them both, offering a hand to Jacob and helping him from the ground. "The faster we move, the less chance we have of contracting this...thing. Whatever it is."

They left the room quickly.

Shepard repressed a shudder. Finding dead bodies was never easy. She could still remember the charred, unidentifiable ones on Eden Prime, years ago. Each body had once been a life, and each life had, she assumed, been precious in some way.

A cough roused her from her thoughts. Across the large area, a batarian was on the ground, pressing themselves against the wall. Coughs where wracking his body, and even from their distance, Shepard could see that each limb was struggling to keep them up.

She tucked her gun away and quickly approached the figure.

"Human," he spat in a raspy voice. "Should have guessed." he coughed painfully and Shepard felt her brow crease in worry. "Bad enough you infect us with this plague. Now you lack the decency to wait until I die before you come to steal my possessions?"

Shepard knelt down so that she was at eye level. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Get away from me human!" the alien shouted with as much strength as he could. In one hand he gripped a gun and kept it pointed at Shepard. She leaned back on her heals and swept her hair off her face. She didn't get up. Whether he wanted it or not, the batarian needed _something._ "Your kind had done too much already!" His hand lowered itself to the floor, too weak to hold the weapon. "Your plague did this to me. And your feigned pity is the final insult."

Shocked and a bit angry she started to protest but Jacob opened his mouth to defend her. "Humans didn't create this plague. No one know the origin."

"Lies," the batarian rasped. "They drip from your mouth like the blood from my sores."

"Let us help you," Shepard tried away, only to be weakly swatted away. "Please."

"You humans are all the same."

Shepard growled at his stubbornness. "What have you got to lose?"

"The proof it there for all to see!" he moaned, pointing to the flames where bodies roasted. "Your species is the only one that does not succumb to the virus. Yours.." another coughing fit, "and the wretched vorcha." He took a few gasping breaths and attempted to right himself against the wall.

"If you won't let me help you, can you lead me to someone who can?" Shepard asked patiently. "I need to find Mordin Solus."

"Humans looking for the human sympathizer," the baratian growled, his breathing clogged with either phlegm or blood. Shepard winced at the sound. "I hope the vorcha burn Mordin and his clinic to the ground!"

She was about to pull back and give up when he stared speaking again. "I hope you a..." a heavy cough, "I hope -" and then another bought of painful coughing over took him. "Dammit," he moaned. "Damn _you -_"

Shepard would have let his tirade continue if it weren't for the face that he was dying in front of her. Quick as she was able, she administered as much medigel as she felt he would need. "Hey, stay with me!" she told him, trying to hide the frantic note in her voice. "This won't cure the plague, but it might help a bit," she told him hopefully.

Slowly, he moved to his feet, Shepard helping him when he stumbled. All four eyes looked shocked. "You...you helped me.." She smiled tentatively. "Why?"

"It's what I do." Lately it seemed like thats all she did. "I don't know if I can find a cure for this plague, but I'm gonna try."

The batarian spoke hesitantly. "Your...words. They...they sound sincere." He gave a lighter cough and shook his head. "Maybe it's the fever. But as you said, what have I got to lose?" He gave a single heavy cough. "What do you wish to know?"

Shepard frowned and shook her head. Honestly, she could have just walked around wildly. The batarian needed to rest. He needed a cure. "When I find Mordin, I'l tell him about you." She rested an easy hand on the other shoulder. "If he has a cure, I'll make sure someone gets it to you." And with that, she guided him back to a seated position.

"Thank you," he murmured. "My time is running short. But at least you have given me a flicker of hope, to brighten the darkness of my final hours."

_Yeah a flicker, _Shepard wanted to say. She needed to find the doctor more than ever now. And going in blind because she refused to strain him any further would no doubt bring her in circles.

"I don't want to die. Whatever Mordin is, I will risk it, if he can reach me."

_Don't say it Mars, don't make him a promise. _"I swear I'll get his people to you." Damn her.

"I should go," she told him softly. "Take deep breaths and try not to move too much. Someone with be here soon."

He spoke a weak thank you and she stood, walking down the wide corridors. Jacob clear his throat.

"Commander? Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"What the_ hell_ was that?" Jacob hissed, pulling her to a stop. "You made him a promise that you might not be able to keep. You wasted medigel on him to what, slow down the process of dying?"

She took it back. He didn't have any Alliance in him. He may as well have been rebuilt by Cerberus too, as cold and unfeeling as he was. How could anyone be so cold toward the idea of anthers death like that? She was sure he wouldn't have been complaining if the batarian had been a human. Shepard sighed. "It was a moment of weakness Jacob. Everybody has them. He was dying. What was I supposed to do? Let him die at my feet and raid his body for credits?"

"You could have told him not to hope for the impossible," Jacob ground out.

Shepard had to press her hands to her side and count to ten. If she didn't, she would hit Jacob in the jaw, and that would get them nowhere. The only plus side to is was she would hit him hard enough to shut him up for a few weeks, at the least. "Let's just keep moving and pray then, Jacob, that he does get the cure."

One hacked door, a few turns around corners, and a back alley later, Shepard had begun to feel paranoid with all the silence. All she could hear was the distant crackle of flames. And a few voices over them.

Shepard held her fist up, hearing the halting footsteps of comrades behind her. She took in her surroundings quickly. The room in front of them held tables and chairs much like the ones you'd find outside of local restaurants on the Citadel. Stairs dipped into the area in front of her and she could see clearly the stairs on the other side. A glassless window offered a view to the potted plants and dark corner. It also offered low and effective cover for any other mercs in the vicinity. She too would have the cover of the "window" on her side, albeit her version would have a severe lack of movement. It was too short on the side she was currently on. And if she had to cross to the other side, it left her open at her ten o'clock. The lights here were dull, and cast more shadow than light. Again, an advantage and a disadvantage. Maybe they don't see her, but she doesn't see them either.

Next to the stairs was a platformed barricade. Two mercenaries - human, blue suns, both male, - chatted at low volume. The cover they had created out of what seemed to be already-put-in high metal walls, a few chairs, and large shipping boxes, though those may have just been holding extra ammo.

There were stairs behind her, hidden in the shadows save for the first for steps bathed in a dim, yellow light. Garrus would probably take those and set up his snipper. But if she did this right, she'd be done before he could take a shot.

She was still a little wound up from Purgatory. Time to blow off a little steam.

Her first shot echoed through the quiet and hung in the air. The first man fell. The second man began shooting, hitting dangerously close to her head. Jacob dove for cover, and she could hear, as she had suspected, Garrus moving up the stairs.

Neither would get the shot.

She ran out of cover boldly, her M-3 making two staccato bangs that rendered her first opponent lifeless. The next was aimed at a man in the doorway. This time, since he was closer, she bent low and kicked his legs out from under him. Her omnitool blade came out and she pierced his throat with no hesitation. The next went to hit her.

Excellent.

Block left. Block right. Duck, right. One blow to the face, but she smiled and struck with her left to his stomach. As he doubled over, she tackled him back. Though he fell, he'd quickly regained his composer and had no trouble turing the tides and pinned her to the ground. He reined punch after punch. All fun and games until he pulled a knife.

She grabbed his wrist and, with the strength of her training and, possibly, her new cybernetics that were holding her together, she forced his arm back and away from her face. She brought her head to connect with his, and when all he made was a guttural groan, she bashed her skull against his once more. He leaned back enough for her to kick him off and stand while he clutched his head in agony. A blow from her foot to his face that broke his neck.

Another merc rushed at her and she kicked out at his knee, breaking it and earning a scream in return. Shepard caught the other by the helmet as he fell forward with both hands and twisted. She picked up her gun that lay a few feet away and shot the next in the head. The one that followed in the arm and then dropped to the ground as he swung a would-have-been nasty right hook. From the way he doubled over in agony and dropped his gun, she'd say her foot had done a great job of being nasty right back.

The man fell to the ground, winded, and tried not to make the childish motion to grab his crotch in absolute aguish. He instead grabbed her leg and dragged her down. For a moment, when her head connected with the ground and she tasted blood, she regretted barreling into the fight. But only for a moment. She brought her omiblade out and went for _just _under the jaw, for a shot to the brain. But he shover her hand down and pinned it with his knee. To her torment, he shoved a knife through the other hand and kept in pinned away from her body.

Her eyes pricked with tears of pain as she cried out. Then hands were around her neck and black spots were already clouding her vision. She cried out horsely and thrashed underneath him, kicking out her legs and trying to push him off.

So, maybe a little regret after all.

_Come on, Garrus, take a shot, _she plead as she fought. If Jacob was preoccupied, which she was sure he was, Vakarian would have to shoot him.

Her mind was shutting down. Thrashing slowing to weak squirms. Her vision was spotting more and more. _Take the shot, Garrus. Find him and take the shot. _Her mind barely formed the thought, now only wanting for oxygen. She mistakenly jerked her left hand for a grab at the mans wrist, but even the minimal movement sent an angry pain up to through her arm. Her mouth opened wide, but all she could do was silently gape in agony._  
_

And then the weight was gone, hands jerking back with and unnatural quickness. She coughed and gasped and gagged, curling into her left side as she allowed oxygen to flow back into her body.

Thank _God _she had brought Garrus. Even with the risk of infection in her friend, the fact he'd come through had proven she'd been wrong about leaving him back aboard the Normandy.

Once she could move a bit more, she sucked in a breath and yanked out the knife. Shit, did that hurt!

"Fuck _me_," she gasped out. She tried not the let the pain show by focusing on the coppery taste in her mouth, and looked to where Garrus was perched.

Slack-jawed and angry.

Twice now she'd run into a fight, both of which could have gotten her killed. One that almost had. Had the situations been reversed, she'd be pissed at Garrus too. Her decision had been rookie one, one that she'd reprimand those once under her command for on a daily basis. He reserved the right to be pissed. Though the emotion seemed reserved for her and her alone theses days.

"Holy shit." That was Jacob's voice, and instead of angry, he sounded amazed. "Damn." He wore a half smile on his face, and despite the throbbing in her head, she smiled back darkly._  
_

"I know," Shepard said hoarsely, bringing herself to her feet.

"That was a stupidest thing I think I've ever seen you do, Commander," Jacob praised with a shake of his head. "But you moved so damn fast, I can't help but be a little impressed."

She her smile fell for an instant as she recalled the abnormal strength in her legs. Not that she couldn't break someone's neck - her N7 training had taught her better than that - but the head had snapped back at such a dramatic angle. In the mix of gunfire and adrenaline, she could only marvel on the power behind each hit. But now she was a bit concerned. Was it implants that had done this or her own ruthlessness?

She wasn't given time to speculate on it, however, because Garrus entered her line of vision. His brow was pinched and his mandibles twitted around his frowning mouth. He walked toward them, but she noticed that his eyes were trained elsewhere, something internal that he was focusing on. As he neared, she almost could see the pallor of his plated skin. If she didn't know better, she'd say he looked...sick.

They stared at each other for a full minute before Garrus move to wave his onmitool over her. The release of medigel and sudden lack of pain made her smile at the turian. She could feel her hand partially close, now only a deep cut instead of a hole. "Thank you." She raised a teasing eye brow. "So you suddenly decided to not be pissed at me?"

Garrus gave a light chuckle. "I have to admit, it was was harder than it looked. I was torn between either being pissed with you for being stupid in combat yet again - and that is really a bad habit Shepard. You were better than that - and being very, very impressed that you still aren't lacking for hand-to-hand combat skills, at least. Fortunately for you, I chose the latter."

"At least?" Shepard inquired."I don't know, my skills with a snipper are almost artistic."

Garrus tilted his head to the side as if considering this, then shook it and shrugged. "I'll put it in a 'human reference.' You may be Van Gogh, but I am Michelangelo."

Shepard's eyed widened at the very human, and very _old _reference. "Starry Night is a classic," Shepard defended jokingly.

"But I am told The 16th Chapel is a _masterpiece_," he retorted, tongue-in-cheek. He was smiling with the good half of his face.

This time Shepard laughed fully, throwing a hand over her mouth to muffle it. "Did I ever say how much I missed you on missions?" she said between her fingers, covering her smile.

"Well, you could stand to," he paused to clear his throat, "you could stand to mention it a little more."

"Uh, hey, love birds," Jacob said, very effectively bringing the two out of their banter. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you can canoodle after we've found the professor."

Garrus cleared his throat again, and Shepard rolled her eyes. She nodded her head toward Jacob. "When you're right, you're right Jacob."

"Are you okay?" she asked after they had started moving again, more slowly than before now. Garrus had that distant look back in his eyes, and he seemed to be surprising a cough...

Oh shit.

No answer. She waver her uniformed hand in front of his face. "Vakarian, are you still with us?" she barked, snapping her fingers a few times.

"Hmm?" was all he said in response. He looked down at her and seemed to almost flinch, but caught himself. "What? I'm sorry, Commander. I was elsewhere."

He was a good liar. She could tell by the way he would clear his throat as the silence stretched on that he was fighting the urge not to cough. The plague was starting to take effect.

Damn it all, she should have told him to stay away from those bodies.

All she could do now was hope that the clinic wasn't too far off from this point.

* * *

Fucking Vorcha. If Shepard never saw one again, it would be too soon.

Garrus had just takes the last of them out with his snipper and was now leaning, dangerously fatigued, against the pillar next to the stairs. After Shepard had promised to clear the way to the clinic to a couple hiding away from the gang activity, a few Blue Suns and Blood Pack members had swarmed the team from below. While Garrus snipped them from above, Jacob and Shepard had been in charge of guarding the stairs.

Jacob and Shepard had barely exited the room near the end of the hall. Some worthless human men were looting a deceased turnian's house.

_"Better us than them,"_ Shepard couldn't stop thinking about the cur's words. Just because there was someone worse who could be there didn't make their excuses any less full of shit. Where was there sense of humanity? She shook her head, trying to cast out the small bit of anger she'd allowed herself.

"I don't get it," Jacob grumbled as they made their way toward the stairs. "Cerberus fights for all humans, because our core belief is based around what we could accomplish." He glared over his shoulder. "I can't believe that includes _them._"

Shepard snorted. A little hypocritical, considering he'd all but told Shepard she should have let a sick batarian die at her feet. "Respect for the dead isn't one of the main concerns when crisis is involved. You're a soldier Jacob, you should know that."

Jacob gave her a small frown. "You're still mad about the batarian aren't you?"

"Only because they were robbing a turian's house and you had a problem with that."

"He died," Jacob insisted. "The batarian wasn't dead."

Shepard sighed as they started up the stairs to meet Garrus. "I understand what you'd meant, about saving him," she said honestly. "But my not helping him would make me no better than the humans down there."

Jacob shrugged. "I won't argue with you. I just don't like the idea of giving anything false hope. If there isn't a cure ready, he's only going to die later, Shepard, and guess who's face he'll be cursing?"

They neared the top on the stairs and the commander stayed quiet. Garrus was slumped against the pillar, eyes closed, sniper clutched close to his side.

"Garrus?" Shepard asked, exchanging a wary glance with Jacob. She'd known that he'd contracted the plague by the look in his eyes and the small, suppressed coughs he poorly disguised as clearing his throat.

"I'm fine," Garrus said, getting to his feet. He let out an annoyed breath. "It's just weird. Is it just me, or is it really hot in here? Because it's really-" Whatever he had been planning to say had been cut off by a violent fit of coughs that he couldn't seem to suppress quickly enough. As soon had he could catch his breath, Shepard saw the shock in his eyes. "Oh no. That...can't be good."

"Figures," Jacob mumbled. "Shepard was right, you _did _get it." He started down the stairs, and made a nod toward the far right corner of the room. "A few looters said the cliic was this way. As the Commander said, let's pray that this salarian has a cure ready to go."

They made their way down the stairs, Jacob taking the lead and Shepard pulling up at the rear.

"So are you going to say I told you so, or do I have to come out and say you were right? Because I have to say, doing the latter seems like a punishment." Even in his darkest hour, Shepard was sure his pessimistic sense of humor would remain.

"To quote a certain turian, it's harder than it looks, really, to do either option. But in the end, had I not brought you, I might be dead."

"Had you not brought me, I wouldn't be dying," he retorted.

"Are turians always this depressing?" Jacob asked.

"No, not really," Shepard answered, at the same time Garrus said, "Mostly, yes."

"It's your own fault Vakarian," Shepard chided. "Next time I say 'go to the Normandy, Garrus,' you should listen to me."

"I couldn't help it," Garrus told her with a shrug. They were descending the stairs and following glowing neon that read "CLINIC" with a matching arrow that pointed them in the correct direction. "I live for arguing with my superiors, you know that. Besides," he started, stopping once to give a small cough, "I haven't had a face to face argument with _you_ in two years."

"Shut it, Vakarian," Shepard growled.

"You _still_ can't say no to me," he mused. "Some things never change, even in death."

Jacob snorted. "All part of that turian charm, right Vakarian?"

Shepard stalked ahead. "Very funny. If this were any other circumstance, I'd shoot you both for insubordination." A vicious lie, they all knew, and all said while fighting a small smile. They neared the clinic entrance, passing by a few people and a few mecs behind counters. She could hear the two mumbling something about how easy it was to spark her temper and something about it being "irresistibly fun" when it came to pushing her buttons.

As soon as the clinic door opened, Shepard immediately felt a pang in her chest. There were people everywhere, some softly talking, some pacing with worried looks on their faces. A few, healthy-looking patients, including a turian one, sat on the couches, seeming nothing more than worn down. Hopefully that meant that they were cured. That there was a cure.

"Professor," a young man's voice called, "we're running low on.." and then mumbled something she could't really hear.

And then she heard possibly the sweetest sound in the world. The voice was slightly higher pitched in the way most male salarian's were. "Use.." a few mumbled words, she assumed giving the younger voice directions. "Almost as good." She heard him mutter something else, and quickly marched down the halls toward the banter, minding the patients that were still mulling around their.

Salarians have a very distinct look to them, which makes spotting those of the species easy. Their long faces and strange inverted torsos create a hunched over, somber look, which is odd given the lively attitudes of the ones she had met. They had large, dark, bug eyes as well, another distinct and, to some, disturbing feature. They had two thick antennae - at least, that's what Shepard mentally referred to them as, since there wasn't really another word - on top of their heads. Though this particular salarian had one and a half, the right one seeming to have been severed many years ago. There were lines on the professors face, suggesting age and decades of frowning. She knew those frown lines too well, and suddenly everything said about the salarian doctor made much more sense.

At one point, he'd most likely been a soldier.

"Professor Mordin Solus?" Shepard addressed, though it came out more of a question.

The professor faced her immediately, and took a few steps closer and scanned her with his omnitool.

And then he was off. "Don't recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees, no mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect..." he turned and typed something into a computer. "Here for something else? Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause." He turned back to his work. "The plague! Investigated possible use as a bioweapon! No. No, no, too many guns, not enough data equipment. _Soldiers_, not scientists. Yes, _yes_!"

The alien could _talk._ Normally with somebody who was rambling that fast, Shepard would have shut them up and asked them to slow it down, but Mordin? Damn. The guy was two fast for her to even get a word in. Not that she wanted to. It was normal deduction, but his mouth moved as fast as the brain did, and it was interesting. Though she hadn't wanted to, Shepard knew she'd have to cut him off if she wanted to get anything accomplished in a _timely _manor.

"Hired guns? Maybe-"

"Relax, Mordin," Shepard said, waving off his words. "I'm commander Shepard, and I've come here to find you." She paused, already seeing doubt in his eyes. "I'm on a critical mission and I need your help."

"Mission? What mission? No, no no no, to busy, clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast!" Then a pause as he bent down to search for something. "Who sent you?" The question was muffled.

"Er.." Well, this was something she'd hoped to avoid. Though Garrus wasn't any closer to loving Cerberus than she was, they had worked together before; he'd follow her into the pits of hell, and she'd do the same had their situations been reversed. But Mordin? As far as anyone knew, he was as against Cerberus as she was if not more so, and would refuse to join. What was she supposed to do then? "It's a...covert and...privately funded human group," she told the other, stumbling over the words. She stepped a bit closer.

"Related to plague?" he asked, popping back up so fast and fluidly, Shepard reared back a bit. "Doesn't affect humans," and shake of his head, and then turning away. "Humans have no interest. Few human groups would know me." And then he was on the machines again, typing something in. She wasn't clear whether he was talking in broken English because he was thinking, if her translator had some sort of glitch she'd have to fix later. "Equipment suggest military origin. Not Alliance, standard. Specters! Not human, no no no, too unstable. Only one option." He face Shepard, and there was genuine surprise lighting up his face. "Cerberus sent you." His surprise turned to suspicion in the form of squinted black orbs in an instant. "Unexpected."

Damn, he was good. Call intuition, call it madness, but Shepard liked the salarian already.

"Well, color me impressed," Shepard told him honestly. "You're very well informed. How did a salarian scientist hear about Cerberus?"

"Crossed paths on occasion," he responded and gave a neutral shrug. "Thought they only work with humans? Why would they request Salarian aid?"

"The Collectors are kidnapping entire human populations," Shepard explained. Which was, in truth, the real reason Shepard was forced under the Illusive Man's thumb. The Collectors were _supposed _to be a myth, up until a week or so ago, when she'd woken up. Or at least a very, _very_, rare sight, seeing as they operated around the pirate end of space, and even then, they rarely came about in news or on the extranet. Shepard had her suspicions about the Reapers being involved, but so far, there was only a vague connection. Either way, families were being taken from colony after colony, and Cerberus help or not, Shepard would see it's end. "We're going to find out why and stop them."

"Collectors? Interesting!" he brought his hand into his chin, contemplating again. "Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups who have technology to design it. Our goals may me similar."

Shepard nodded, prompting him to continue.

"But! Must stop plague first."

That reminded her. She turned to Garrus, who was leaning against the wall, looking at Mordin with a curious look in his eyes. "My friend actually-"

Before she could say anything else, Mordin's omnitool appeared around his arm, and he transferred something toward Garrus. "Should cure in all stages of plague," she heard him mumble before turing away to type something.

"Did that work?" She heard Jacob ask.

Garrus was quiet for a moment, and she could hear his even breathing. "I'm almost confident that it did."

Shepard eyed Mordin curiously as he continued to talk. "Already have a cure, as you have seen. Need to distribute it at environment control center. Vorcha guarding it." A quick pause. "Need to kill them."

Why couldn't it just be something simple? "Ill get in and deal with the vorcha. Is there anyt-" she was about to ask if there was anything else that needed to be done, but just then, the lights around them powered down, as did everything else, with a low and mechanical sigh. A few exposed wires and pipes of the ceiling leaked some sort of gas. Shepard could only guess it was oxygen.

Behind her, Jacob and Garrus were looking around as well, as if trying to see if the source was in the immediate area. "That sounded bad," Garrus muttered.

"Vorcha have shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Need to get power back of before district suffocates," Mordin spoke a bit quicker, panicked, glancing at his omnitool. Shepard's eyes widened, and then darkened again. Damn the vorcha. What the hell was their problem? Sure she'd met some asshole species in her time, hell she'd dealt with the Council, but these pests were pulling ahead for first place today.

"What can I do?" Shepard asked.

"Here," Mordin said, offering her something akin to a vile. "Take plague cure." And then he offered her a gun. "Also, bonus in good faith. Weapon from dead Blue Suns merc. May come in handy against vorcha."

Shepard stared at the heavy pistol. An M-6 Carnifex Hand Cannon could really pack a punch to any species. It was pretty useful, she had to admit. Which is why she couldn't quite accept it. "Are you sure? Now that the vorcha think they have the upper hand, they might try to swarm the clinic. If that happens, I need to know that you're well equipped to defend yourself, professor."

Mordin shook his head. "No time. Have mechs ready to shoot. A few hidden guns too, if necessary. Wasn't always a doctor. Some work with salarain special task group." He gave her a knowing look, and actually raised an invisible eyebrow at her. "Can handle myself. Have the advantage. Turian, krogen, vorcha, all obvious threats. Never see me coming."

Shepard gave him a nod, fighting a laugh. She'd figured as much. Tougher than he looked. She removed her own M-3 and placed it on the workbench, keeping the gift by her side. It wasn't much, but it _was _loaded and within reach. "Just in case they're too hidden, then," she told him with a genuine smile.

Mordin offered her a shocked and relieved smile. "One more thing then; Daniel. One of my assistants. Went into vorcha territory. Looking for victims." He took a deep breath. "Hasn't come back..."

"Do you have any idea where can we find him?"

Mordin shook his head. "_No_! Heard of infected batarians trapped behind vorcha lines. Daniel went to help." He looked away. "Warned him not to go, too dangerous. Patients here need him. Snuck out anyway. Wanted to find him myself." Frustrated, now. "Can't leave the clinic Have to look after the patients."

Shepard nodded. She was about answer him, but Jacob beat her to the punch. "If we see him, we'll do what we can to help, professor."

"Thank you," Mordin breathed, relieved. "Warned him not to go. But he's smart. Bright future. A help."

Help...

"If you could help me out with one favor though?" Shepard asked hesitantly.

"Listening."

"I found a batarian plague victim near the entrance to the neighborhood. Could you send someone to help him?"

"Hm. Risky. Blues Suns and Vorcha still battling. District not secure..."

"Please." This was Jacob again. Shepard turned to him with wide eyes at the amount of honesty in his tone.

"See what I can do," Mordin told him with a nod.

"Thank you, Mordin." She turned toward the other two. fully now. "Let's head for the environmental plant."

As soon at they had walked out of earshot, Shepard turned to Jacob. "What was _that_?" she asked. _  
_

Jacob shrugged. "Honestly? I'm not sure. He had a cure though, so there really wasn't a reason not to ask for his help. And an assistant is to a doctor what a soldier is to their commander. You know that."

Shepard gave him a wide smile. "'_Now I know I have a heart, for it's aching_,'" she teased, quoting the twentieth century human-made vid. "Should we give you the code name Tinman?"

Jacob opened the door to exit the clinic, and slid her a glare. "Only if we get to call you Dorothy."

"Hello, yes, turian here. Hi, nice to meet you, humans." Shepard turned to Garrus, who, if the deep frown and slightly pulled together brow was anything to go by, was agitated. At least he was back to normal.

"I'll explain it on the way."

* * *

"Krogan on your left!" Shepard shouted over to Jacob from her cover. She peaked over her cover and shot a vorcha was what descending the stairs.

"Got it!"

"Anyway, the good witch tells her to click her heels together and chant, 'there's no place like home' and she wakes up in her bed. It's a really old vid, by human standards." She took aim with her new M-6 and shot at another vorcha who was a little too close to Garrus's body. For the passed few minutes, the three of them had been shooting at Blood Pack members and discussing the old vid "_The Wizard of_ _Oz_" , which Garrus did not seem to understand.

"Chanting? Teleportation? That sounds a bit cultish, by anyone's standards."

"It wasn't really a chant so much as it was a...I don't know, a spell?" Jacob shouted over a krogan war cry, and stuck the opponent with the back of his shotgun. Shepard took aim and shot the krogan twice in the head before he had time to recover.

"Spell seems about right," Shepard agreed. "And she didn't 'teleport'. She woke up."

Garrus took down two vorcha before responding. "Humans have the weirdest fantasies. Magic shoes? Melting people with _water_?" He shook his head and chuckled. "Sometimes i think it's a wonder your kind had the ability to make first contact, let alone survive it."

"Alright, settle it down now. You asked for an explanation and we gave it to you," Shepard said.

"I can't believe you're complaining," a pause that came from Jacob as he clear the final vorcha out of the way, "when your race had a hand in producing _Fleet and __Flotilla_."

While reloading, Shepard shushed Jacob.

Garrus rolled his eyes and reloaded his gun. With Shepard in the lead, now they were all making their way toward a flight of stairs in the back of the room. "That vid doesn't even come _close _ to the amount of absurdity that your human vids seem to carry."

Shepard spun on her heal to face them. "I hate to interrupt, but now that the fight is over, I really don't think we should debate which race has had more cinematic masterpieces. We have more pressing matters to attend to." She turned back toward the stairs.

And nearly ran into a bullet which was aimed slightly to the left of her head and instead embedded itself into a pillar, which she quickly ducked behind.

A krogen and three vorcha were slowly making their way down the stairs, despite the spray off bullets they the trio rained upon them. The vorcha, as it were, wouldn't be a problem. It was the krogan warlord that shot blast after blast at them that would be a problem. He had to go.

Just as she was about to storm into battle, three taloned fingers held her in place. "You run out there to play hero again, and I will kill you myself, Shepard."

"Mind your mouth and your own business, Garrus," Shepard growled, shaking him off violently and finally taking down one of the vorcha. "Besides, death wasn't so bad."

Garrus gave a low growl and ducked out of cover to take out the closest vorcha. "Forgive the insubordination, _Commander_," he spit the word out and Shepard shot him a hateful stare. "But my opinion stands as this; running out into the field is a rash move, and the _Alliance_ taught you better."

Shepard shot his shields. Jacob had taken out the third vorcha and had gotten lucky with a headshot to he krogan. The fight was over.

Garrus gapped at her.

"Forgiveness for your insubordination is being considered. I'm almost positive_ C-Sec_ trained you better. Be thankful I don't send your mission reports back to them, Archangel." Garrus flinched, and Shepard holstered her gun.

They made their way up the next several flights of stairs in silence. The dim red-hued lighting was making it harder to see anything that may be lurking in the corner. The quiet sound of footsteps was the only thing that made any noise. When they finally did come to a clearing, there was an open door to her left.

As soo as she opened it, Shepard drew her pistol again. Three batarians and a human were the occupants. One of the batarians, presumably the leader, was holding the human by the front of his shirt and pulling his close to his face. The kid could't have been more that twenty six. This had to be the infamous Daniel.

"I'm telling you the truth!" the human said pleadingly, "I work with Mordin at the clinic! I came here to _help _you!"

"We know you're spreading the plague virus," the batarian spat. "We saw the bottles in your bag!"

"No, those vials contain the cure! Please, you have to believe me."

"Maybe we should cut off your fingers. That should loosen your-"

Shepard had seen enough. She held her gun in front of her and marched in. One of the batarians shouted a warning, and pulled his gun. The other did the same. The leader looked over his shoulder, met Shepard's eyes, and shoved the kid away from him, training a gun on his person so fast Shepard barely saw the motion.

"One more step and we kill your friend."

She eyed Daniel before speaking. His hands were up, eyes closed, and mouth drawn into a thin line.

"I know you're scared," Shepard said, addressing both species before she turned to the leader. "Of the vorcha. Of the plague. But this man isn't to blame. If he was spreading the virus," she said as gently as she could, "why would he come into _vorcha _territory? They're _immune_."

"She's right," one of the batarians said, turing toward the other. "It doesn't make any sense."

He grunted. "If we release the prisoner, we can go?"

"You have my word on it." And they did.

The batarian withdrew his gun."Let him go." The others stepped down and Daniel relaxed a bit. "You got what you wanted human. Are we free to go?"

She should pull the trigger. There was no telling what trouble they'd get into if she let them leave. But she wasn't the type of person to go back on their word. Shepard nodded and straightened up, putting her gun away. "We had a deal."

The batarian's for eyes widened a bit in shock and approval. "Human nobility. I didn't know such a thing existed." And with that, they left.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Daniel began to speak.

"Thank you," he stuttered out. "I thought they were gonna...gonna kill me. Did...Mordin send you to find me?"

Shepard's face softened a bit. "Yes. The professor could use your help right now. He's got too many patients and not enough volunteers. They path way is fast, and it's cleared for the moment. You should get back."

"Yeah...okay." He gave her a small, genuine smile. "I'll head back right away. Thanks again. I..." he paused and looked away. "I owe you...well, everything."

Shepard shook her head. "Get to the clinic and stay safe, Daniel. Don't worry about it."

He scurried off with nothing else but a nod. Poor kid. Had they few second later and Shepard wasn't sure "a bit shaken up" would do as a valid description of the kid's mental state.

* * *

Gunfire. Steam. Smoke. The smell of flames. The quake of rockets and grenades shaking the ground. The room was filled with Blood Pack members, mostly Vorcha. The room was open, and littered with boxes, furniture, plants, and the occasional pillar that supported the architecture. And Shepard could not get a clear shot.

She'd tried her shot gun, her pistol, and even the grenade launcher, though she saved a few shots from that for anything bigger that they found. The only other option was her Widow, and even now, set up at the edge of the balcony, she couldn't so much as peak her head over her cover without a bullet whizzing passed her ear. Her shields were taken down way too often, and as of that moment, she had none.

Jacob was having the same problem, as was Garrus. No one could get a clear shot with a swarm like this. Especially with the damned rocket launchers.

Shepard had her back agains the cold metal cover when she saw a vorcha peek its head into view, it's gun pointed at Garrus.

Maybe it was her way of apologizing, maybe it was because she was fed up with vorcha, or maybe it was purely instinct, but Shepard stood up, pulled out her pistol ,and sank two shots into the aliens head. It fell back and out of view with a screech.

"Shepard, get down!"

She dropped back into cover, watching as a rocket flew over her head and crashed farther away. She turned to Garrus, wide eyed. "Thanks."

He nodded. "Call it a truce, and an apology."

"Never mind the dramatics. We're going to have to charge down their. If we want to stop coming under such heavy fire and take out that idiot with the rocket launcher."

"I'm with you on that," Garrus said. "Jacob, do you think you can cover Shepard?"

Jacob nodded. "Depends; are you gonna waste the asshole with the rocket launcher?"

Garrus's answering smile was as positive as it was dark. Without any other words, Shepard and Jacob ran into the hellish fight below.

* * *

"I really hate vorcha."

"Jacob, after today I couldn't agree with you more," Shepard grumbled. They'd taken the last of the swarm out and were currently picking there was across vorcha corpses to make it back to doctor Solus's clinic. The creatures had made a deal with the Collectors to spread the plague. Something about the vorcha becoming stronger. Words of resentment about the doctor. More unanswered questions, nothing too unusual. They'd taken down so many Shepard had run out of rounds and was forced to rely on the limited cover Garrus and Jacob could give her.

They'd turned on the fans, of course, and made sure the cure was pumped through the systems and spread throughout the district.

Right now, Jacob was sporting a bruise on his cheek, and a slight limp. He was also favoring his left arm toward the end of the fight. Garrus looked like he was about to drop from exhaustion, fatigue no doubt from engaging in a full-on fire fight and contracting a plague only three days after being shot with a missile. Shepard herself had scratches and bruises like every normal fight. She could feel the already healing bruises on her neck, and the painful stretch of the wound in her hand. If Omega hadn't been plagued by vorcha dying from disease and digging for scraps in its back alleys, Shepard would feel no pity for the species.

The walk back was a quiet one. That was probably a good sign. Nothing too traumatic to send either of the men into shock, and nothing news worthy either. All too soon, they were stepping back into Mordin Solus's office.

"Environmental Systems engaged. Airborne viral levels dropping, patients are improving, vorcha retreating...well done, Shepard." As he was speaking, the salarain was flitting about, typing on one thing, adjusting something on other screen a few feet behind him. "Thank you."

"A-and thank you for me as well." This came from the kid, Daniel. "Those batarians would have killed me." He scratched the back of his neck. "For a second there, I thought you were going to shoot them."

Shepard shrugged. "So did I, kid. But I made a promise to spare them if they let you go. I try to honor my promises."

"Merciful of you. Risky," Mordin said with a serious look on his face. "Would have killed them myself."

"Professor how can you say that? You're a doctor! You're supposed to help people!" Poor kid hadn't seen enough people die, or nearly enough action. Behind her, Shepard even thought she heard Garrus chuckle at the absurdity of Daniel's statement.

"Lot's of ways to help people," Mordin countered. "Sometimes, heal patients. Sometimes, execute bad people. Either way helps."

He was right. It was a miserable reality; sometimes you have to take a few people out of the world to make it brighter. It's not an excuse, but one gets used to it.

Mordin nodded to Daniel. "Go check on the patients," he told him in a kinder voice. "Lots of work to do. Think about what I said."

Daniel narrowed his eyes a bit, but did as the professor instructed. Shepard raised an eyebrow at Mordin as soon as Daniel was gone. In return, the salraian gave her an honest smile. "Good kid. Bit naïve. He'll learn. Letting him take over the clinic. Should be able to handle it now that vorcha are gone."

"I wouldn't doubt it. He seems like a smart kid." Shepard paused for a moment. Now the moment of truth. Mordin had said he was letting Daniel take over the clinic. That didn't mean, however, that he'd be so quick to join up with Cerberus. "We've helped cure the plague, as promised. Are you still up for stopping the collectors?"

"Yes!" The answer and enthusiasm was defiantly not what she'd planned. "Unexpected to be working with Cerberus. _Many _surprises. Just need to finish up at the clinic. Won't take long. Meet you at your ship." He took a deep breath. "Looking forward to it."

Shepard smiled and held out an armored hand, which Mordin shook confidently. "As am I, Mordin. We'll see you back on the Normandy. Welcome aboard."

* * *

Shepard was leaning against the wall of the conference room, speaking to EDI about the Normandy's status - a discussion that was interrupted by Joker, via com-system, involving shouting over EDI that he could tell Shepard himself, and insisting that "An AI is not going to do my damned job, Ren." - when Jacob and Mordin walked in. He was welcoming the salarian with a kind voice, and Shepard could see that he was becoming more at ease with the alien.

"It's an honor to have you on board."

"Yes, very exciting!" Mordin told him in rushed excitement. "Cerberus working with aliens." A deep breath. "Unexpected. Illusive man branching out, maybe? Not so human-centric?" He turned his curious gaze to Shepard.

"Illusive Man?" Shepard said, crossing her arms. "Again, professor, I'm impressed. You're _very_ well informed."

Mordin shrugged. "Salarian government well connected. Espionage experts. Had top level clearance once, but retired now. Still...hear things." He shook his head and turned to Jacob who's face had gone from confident and collected to nervous so fast it was almost laughable. "Know name only. No knowledge of man behind it. Anti-alien reputation listed as...problematic."

"Yeah, I have no doubts about that. I know a few humans who have had to watch their backs because of Cerberus before," Shepard murmured. Mordin gave her a knowing, rueful smile. She continued. "It sounds great that Cerberus is working with aliens now, professor, but don't kid yourself. Humans still come first in the Illusive Man's eyes." His freaky, possessive eyes. "This mission is too big for them to handle alone."

"The Collectors are abducting human colonists out on the fringes of Terminus space," Jacob explained.

"Mmh," Mordin said, holding up a finger. "Not simple abductions. Wouldn't need _me _for _simple."_

"Entire colonies disappear without a trace, " Jacob continued. Both he and Mordin began pacing. "No distress signals were sent out, there are no signs of any kind of attack. There's virtually no evidence that anything happened there at all. Except that every man, woman, and child are gone."

Wind him up and watch him go. "Gas maybe? No, too slow-"

Shepard held her hands up before he could even start. "You don't have to guess, Mordin. We collected samples from one of the colonies. If you are able, I'd like you to analyze them and figure out how the collectors did this. Please," she tacked on the "please" awkwardly.

"Yes, of course! Analyze the samples." He nodded to Shepard. "Going to need a lab."

"There is a fully equipped lab on the Combat Deck, professor Solus. If you find anything lacking, please place a requisition order." As EDI spoke, Mordin's head looked around the room as if trying to find it's source.

"Who's that, pilot?" Oh, Joker would have a hissy fit if he heard that. "No. Synthesized voice, simulated emotional inflections. Could it b - no...maybe...have to ask. Is that an _AI_?" The way he said AI sounded different than when Joker or Garrus had said it. Not with hatred or disgust, but with wonder.

"Yes. This ship is equipped with an artificial intelligence. Enhanced Defense Intelligence, or EDI, for short."

"An AI on board. _Non-human crew members..._Cerberus more desperate than I thought." At that, he looked to Jacob.

"The Collectors have taken tens of thousands of colonists. We will do what ever we have to do to find and stop them." The way he said the words were stiff, formal, and not at all comfortable. It was defiantly something the Illusive Man Had told him.

"Yes, of course. Can't risk being captured like colonists. Need to identify and neutralize technology. Need samples. Which way to the lab?"

"Follow me, professor," Jacob said, saluting Shepard before leading the salarian out the door.

As the door shut, Shepard found herself smiling. It may not be the Alliance, and it certainly was not the same ship, but with with Garrus, Chakwas, Joker, and now Mordin, the ship was starting to feel a little less like a prison.


End file.
